Let's do It Right This Time
by Lorde Shadowz
Summary: Harry is furious. You'd think that without Voldemort, he'd have the right to a little peace. But with Umbitch acting up, Ginny in therapy, Hermione a traitor, and James Potter not so dead after all, he decides to take a chance on a little-used spell...and takes the world by storm. Harry is dead, long live Aurelius Gaunt!
1. Prologue

Let's do It Right This Time, Prologue

Harry Potter was fuming. You would have thought, with the war being over, and Voldemort dead, that his life would be easy. It wasn't. Not by a long shot, considering all that he had been through in the last two years. He was fed up.

Scrimgeour had been pressuring him to join the aurors for months, threatening Arthur Weasley's position whenever Harry tried to retire.

His wife, Ginny, had broke down and told him that she'd been lacing his pumpkin juice with love potion since his fifth year, and had since been dragged off by mind healers due to her delusions and the trauma of the war and her early possession, before Harry had even had time to speak with her. Apparently it was for 'his own good' that she got treated, dispite the fact that the mind healers at St. Mungo's and, indeed, in the Wizarding world, were nothing more than glorified exorcists.

Hermione had revealed in fit of rage that she'd been paid by Dumbledore to 'guide' him: keeping him in the dark about everything, renewing the potion cocktail he was dosed with after every summer, keeping the illegal mail wards from wearing off, and filling his ears with propaganda. She'd also been promised a share of his vaults if he had died, and Dumbledore would have gotten the rest but for his demise. Apparently she'd also been complicit in several of his other plans for the Greater Good, which has included blocking his magical core, drugging Snape and putting aggression enhancing wards on his personal quarters and classroom, and obliviating Mcgonagall regularly when she figured out there was something going on.

Dolores Umbitch had passed a law causing all British werewolves and their progeny to be institutionalized permanently, or euthanized if they disagreed, and had literally taken his godson Teddy out of his arms in his own home.

Oh, and his 'dead' father, James Potter, had showed up very much alive on his doorstep to visit with the son he'd abandoned, as well as inform him that he had no right to the title 'Lord Potter', as he had a legitimate heir born to a pureblood princess, and to admit that he'd only ever married 'that mudblood' on his father's order that he needed to marry a muggleborn to strengthen the line. And to take her away from 'Snivellus'. He'd apparently had to slip her a fertility potion and rape her, before using pureblood laws to trap her into marriage. The baby girl had been a squib, and he'd ended up putting her in an orphanage somewhere. Harry could _really_ sympathise with Snape right now, and _that_ was a first.

Oh, yes. Harry was livid. To think that his life has actually been _better _with a psychopath after him! Harry would not stand for it. He would have simply disappeared, but there was no way he could get away with that, not with his fame.

So he was going to try something else, something he'd found in an old book in the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts library, when Minnie Mcgonagall had let him retake his seventh year. At the time, he'd been newly engaged, free of Voldemort, and high on the expectation that he would be flying for England in the Quiddich World Cup, and while the idea had been tempting, he'd had a perfect future ahead and hadn't wanted to go back to the days where he'd been hunted by Voldemort. Now, it actually looked like a good idea. If only he could borrow a copy of that book...


	2. Chapter 1

Let's do It Right This Time, Chapter 1: 10,000 Spells You Should Never Use

"Headmistress?"

Minerva Mcgonagall glanced up through her spectacles, setting down her quill so that it wouldn't drop. "Yes Harry? Please make it quick, I have a meeting with the Governers."

"Um, do you think Madame Pince would mind if I used the 'gemino' charm on a few pages in 10,000 Spells You Should Never Use? I'm doing a paper."

Mcgonagall looked at him suspiciously a moment, but finally nodded. He swallowed. He hated lying to her, but he couldn't exactly say why he really wanted it. Some of the spells in that book were the darkest of the dark, which was why it was in the Restricted Section in the first place. Others were obsolete: conjuring chamber pots, translating Greek to Helvetian, or absurd: causing a thousand day-glow parrots to spell "Marry me, (_name_)" in the sky, causing someone to talk in bad Spencerian sonnets for a week, or making everything one ate taste like chestnuts. That last curse would have been nice to use on Umbridge, especially as it was permanent, but unfortunately you had to cast it on yourself.

By the time Harry had gotten to the library, it was nearing curfew, and Madame Pince was already shooing out a bevy of Ravenclaws. She was about to chase out Harry, too, when she realized who he was, and stepped aside, lips pursed as if she had been sucking on a lemon drop without sugar.

"Ten minutes, Mr. Potter, that's all," she said, as if he was still a disruptive little Gryffindor. Harry didn't mind. He walked straight to the Restricted Section, the ward line only buzzing, as he was of age, and scanned rows and rows of nasty-looking Dark Arts books until he found the one he wanted, wedged between two obviously contraband _Playwizards_, and pulled out the musty-smelling book.

He cast a glance over his shoulder. Madame Pince was checking out a lone Slytherin, and had her back to him, writing something in her great record book. Harry seized his chance. A twitch of his wand, a mutter of _gemino_, and two identical books lay at his feet: he had duplicated it. He smirked. Normally, copyright charms prevented what he had just done, but those had long been disabled on the books at the Hogwarts library so that students could copy pages for study or homework- he had just not expected it to work on an entire book.

Still, that made it easier, as he hadn't had to look through the whole thing for the page on _Facere Vita Iterum_ before Madame Pince came over.

With another flick of his wand, he banished the copy to his flat. When Madame Pince came to kick him out a few minutes later, he was sitting in an overstuffed Gryffindor red armchair in a little nook, innocently perusing the latest fiction speculating about his early life- something about having a pet griffin at age six, and living in Potter Castle with doting and clueless muggle relatives, who has strange, overly elaborate contraptions even just to squeeze an orange or flush a toilet.

Harry put down the book of drivel without being put out in the slightest, only grumbling a little for old-time's sake, and added 'suing Wizarding publishers for making money on an orphan' to his bucket list for things he meant to change, on the way out of Hogwarts. Hmm, maybe befriending Rita Skeeter could be useful, too. He had no doubt that for the right price and the promise of headlines she could have made Voldemort's rebirth sound like the second coming of Merlin.

The first time around, he'd been shy, he'd been clueless, he'd been noble, he'd been Gryffindor. He still tried to cling to his nobility, but he was certainly _not_ shy or clueless. And this time around, he'd take the world by storm.

10,000 Spells You Should Never Use was even more interesting reading than he'd remembered. There was a spell to make moss grow on someone's skin (muscosus), a spell to make any hair style someone was currently wearing into a mullet (Harry wondered idly if it could grow one on a bald man), a spell to make a caricature of your rival on any blank piece of parchment he or she touched (Harry would have to remember_ vultum detorqueo_\- he couldn't wait to use it on James), and one to make one's rival's silverware bite them (Harry shuddered at the thought of what the twins might do if they got a hold of that one).

At last, on page 7345, he found it._ Facere Vita Iterum_. It was complicated, expensive, and of the sort that the Ministry of Magic would probably consider dark with a capital 'D'. Fortunately, however, the ritual did not include either human sacrifice or torture, and the accompanying potion had no human organs on the ingredient list. The fact that the lines of the ritual circle and the accompanying runes had to be drawn in one's own blood was mildly disturbing, but Harry could spare a pint of his blood if it meant he got to fix the train wreck that was his life. Most of the other ingredients and artifacts could be bought at the local apothecary shop, and the illegal ones he could get from his contacts in Knock Turn Alley. As for the gallon of basilisk venom, dispite Ron and Hermione's raid on Salazar's Chamber when they were all seventeen, they couldn't have punctured both venom sacks, and in the controlled environment of the Chamber, the toxic carcass could last centuries without decomposing; not many things can eat basilisk. He was very luck he had his own personal source, too, as the venom went for 180,050 G an ounce, and more on the Black market.


	3. Chapter 2

Let's do It Right This Time, Chapter 2: The Ritual

Shopping took most of the next week, as his suppliers in Knock Turn Alley had to procure a number of rare ingredients (Mongolian death worm slobber, phœnix eggshells, Stygian water, bonnacon earwax, and hen's teeth, as well as a genuine mummified monkey's paw.) Needless to say, Harry was not looking forward to drinking the potion. The ordinary Diagon Alley suppliers, moreover, such as Higgins Apothecary and Potion Supply Inc. had to send away for his more exotic orders. His vault supplied the ten flawless emeralds, and the Brazilian Batwing scales were a gift from Charlie Weasley, after He mentioned to Ron that he needed them. He even had to mail order a thunderbird feather and three plumes from a winged serpent from the Americas. The expense didn't matter. He needed to do this, and if it took all his vault, well, technically it was the Potter vault, so he didn't care.

The next thing he had to do was render the basilisk. It took 36 hours, 4 teams of goblins, Minerva Mcgonagall's permission, and another 3000 G, but once he'd removed the venom sacks and sold the carcass, it more than paid for itself. Besides, Harry had four gallons of basilisk venom, more than enough for the ritual, and had he had to buy it, he would have needed to bribe someone to get him a permit or buy it on the black market for unseemly prices.

Now all he had to do was do the ritual, and he had to admit that he was a bit scared. However, he was too much of a Gryffindor to back down now, and too much of a Slytherin to think of wasting all the ingredients he had bought.

So on a rather unassuming Tuesday, he mixed a _Casus Secundus _potion on his kitchen stove, thanking Merlin that he'd gotten potions tutoring the year before (he was willing to spend whatever it took to see this through, but it would be downright stupid to waste 346, 892 G because he blew up his cauldron).

The potion took eight hours, but it was only complex for the first hour, and only hands-on for the first four, so that by the end of the day, he had successfully brewed a midnight blue potion flecked with grey, which smelled like decomposing seaweed and over-steamed green beans. Harry decided to call it an early night; the potion would keep for up to three days, so there was no hurry to start the ritual.

Very early on Wednesday, Harry munched a scone he'd bought the day before last, went over the chant in the book until he had every word memorized, and could recite it without stumbling over the Gaelic (it was a very old British ritual, and had never been Romanized- hense the blood magic) and then went over it another ten minutes to avoid doing the ritual for as long as possible. Then he used the thunderbird and quetzalcoatl feathers to draw the runes and ritual circle in his own blood. And then, shaking slightly with nerves, he stepped into the circle.

The incantation was long and hard to pronounce, but he had practiced it more than enough, and he chanted for half an hour without stopping, all the while drawing the required symbols in the air. As his voice rose to a shout, he picked up the goblet of _Casus Secundus_ lying by his feet, and on the last word he tossed it back. He immediately wished he hadn't. It tasted of burning tires, rotting seaweed, and, for some reason peach, with a hint of camel dung from the Mongolian death worm slobber. Eyes streaming, he doubled over as the potion scorched its way down his throat like over-aged firewhiskey. The world spun as though he'd taken a long-distance portkey...and, in a way, he had. Faster, and faster, and then nothing.

*Curses followers with tickling curse* REVIEW!


	4. Chapter 3

Let's do It Right This Time, Chapter 3: The Zoo

AN: Bolded lines are from _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone._

Harry jolted awake, so fast that he cracked his head against the wall of his cupboard. Wait what? Oh Hell no! Harry slowly let his eyes adjust to the darkness with a sigh. From what little he could find about the spell, he'd expected it to send him back in time, all grown up, to mentor or perhaps protect his younger self. Instead he was back in his scrawny ten-year-old body, in a cupboard with Harry's Room scrawled on the wall with a bit of blue paint that he'd stolen from his first-grade home room in a napkin a few years ago in an attempt to brighten up his "room". From his now more mature perspective, the entire situation was disgusting, and he couldn't wait to get out-Hell he didn't even own a wand yet!

"Boy!" Aunt Petunia's voice. He had certainly not missed _that_.

"Coming, Aunt Petunia!" He got to his feet with a muffled sigh, pulling on his socks. He didn't know exactly what day it was, as there wasn't exactly a calendar in his cupboard, but he had a pretty good guess. With his luck, it would be Dudders' birthday.

**His aunt was back outside the door. **"**Are you up yet?" she demanded.**

**"Nearly," said Harry**, flicking a spider gently off his shapeless grey sweater.

"**Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. ****And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday."**

Oh, great. Harry remembered this day quite vividly, and while it had been amusing to set a snake on Dudley, he didn't particularly want to live it over again. He was still trying to figure out how to get to Gringotts and begin inacting his plans. All the same, he knew better than to argue with Petunia.

Without more ado, he walked down to the kitchen to cook Dudders' breakfast. This time, however, he used small amounts of wandless magic to make the eggs go over easy and the bacon get perfectly crisp. He knew, having had to fill out auror paperwork, that wandless magic in a muggle household was logged as accidental magic until the child was eleven, as Wizarding children supposedly couldn't do it without training, and muggleborns obviously wouldn't get said training.

At last, the breakfast was ready. Harry filled three heaping plates, shoved a large piece of bacon in his mouth- he was _not _going to starve this time- and carried said plates to the table. Vernon Dursley- Harry refused to think of the bastard as "uncle" any longer- was already there. "**Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of a morning greeting.**

"Yes sir," Harry replied, biting off the words to keep from saying what he would have liked to. Then he returned to the kitchen before Vernon could find fault with anything else.

After breakfast, Dudley unwrapped his presents: a motorbike, a gold watch, a new pair of boxing gloves, a VCR, new video games, and so on. Harry winced in the other room as he heard the ceaseless tearing of paper, and Dudley's whining about the fact that he'd only gotten thirty-seven presents, with Petunia's quick reassurance that her "Popkins" would get _two_ more presents while they were out. Had he really been this much of a brat?

A little more unwrapping, then Aunt Petunia, who had gone to answer the phone, was slamming it down hard. "Mrs. Figg broke her leg. She can't take _him_." The intonation in which she indicated Harry was similar to that which he would have used for a puppy that had soiled the carpet.

"**We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.**

"**Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy."**

Harry stifled a snicker as he remembered the events before his fourth year, then turned his attention back to the Dursleys, hoping that events would happen the same as last time.

"**What about what's-her-name, your friend — Yvonne?"**

"**On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.**

"**You could just leave me here," **Harry commented, doing his best to sound hopeful.

Petunia's lips pursed up rather like a dog's anus. **"And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled.**

"**I won't blow up the house," said Harry, **(not that he didn't want to)** but they weren't listening.**

**"I suppose we could take him to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, "… and leave him in the car…**

**" That car's new, he's not sitting in it alone…"**

As if it was Harry's life-goal to ruin their precious car. Harry executed a perfect Snape sneer as Dudley began blubbering, pretending to be upset. Harry was not fazed by the performance, but Aunt Petunia immediately dropped everything.

**"Dinky Duddydums, don't cry, Mummy won't let him spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her arms around him.**

"**I… don't… want… him… t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "He always sp-spoils everything!" He shot Harry a nasty grin through the gap in his mother's arms.**

At that moment, the doorbell jangled loudly- **"Oh, good Lord, they're here!" said Aunt Petunia frantically- **and she opened it for rat-faced Piers and his stylishly dressed, overweight mother. Mrs. Polkiss only stayed long enough to drop him off- Harry cynically wondered if she didn't want to be around him anymore than he did- and after a little fussing from Dudley, they were off.

So they were heading to the zoo in London, just like in the last timeline, only this time, when Vernon was ranting about "hooligans" on motorcycles, Harry didn't comment, only stifled a giggle at the thought of the look on Vernon's face were Sirius to show up on his flying motorcycle. Sirius. The thought drove the smile off his face. Sirius was still locked up in Azkaban, an alleged criminal, and no one was doing a thing about it.

That thought, in turn, brought others to the surface, less welcome still. What if he ended up getting Sirius killed in this timeline too? Worse still, what if Sirius had been complicit in James's plotting; after all, the two were said to be as close as brothers... The jolting of the car to a stop wrenched him out of his thoughts. He'd never been more grateful for Vernon's bad driving.

Once again, they strolled through the zoo, Harry hanging behind to keep out of the other boys' way- he might be savior of the Wizarding world, but he was malnourished and his core was not fully developed; he could ill afford to start something until he had his wand and could defend himself adequately.

They passed the same exhibits as before: giraffes chewing on leaves supplied by their keepers, tigers pacing their cages, dolphins leaping and twisting in their tank for scraps of fish, and kangaroos and wallabies and long-fingered aye-ayes...

Once again, Harry silently remarked on the extraordinary likeness that Dudley and a young male silverback gorilla shared, although the gorilla was not blond and looked more intelligent.

After a while, they passed the ice-cream stand, and the Dursleys bought Piers and Dudley chocolate ice-creams, and him a cheap ice-pop so that the woman at the counter wouldn't be suspicious.

Then they looked at some more animals Vernon declared it was lunch time, mostly because Piers and Dudley were harassing him and people were starting to notice. After lunch, and before Harry was able to finish the remains of Dudley's second knickerbocker glory, Dudley dragged them all to the reptile house, babbling on about venomous cobras and thirty-foot man-eating anacondas.

The reptile house was dark and cool, and Harry's oversensitive ears could catch the rasp of scales against rock, see lizards basking in artificial sunlight on artificial branches, hear, from some of the meshed-over tanks, the susurating whispers of serpentine gossip and prayers for escape.

Harry meandered about for a bit, pausing by a familiar tank. After a minute or so, Dudley and Vernon came up behind him, Dudley making his father rap on the glass for his amusement. The boa constrictor did the serpentine equivalent of an eyeroll, and as soon as Dudley had moved on, whining about how boring it was, Harry asked her how she was, talking to her quietly until Piers turned around and ran back, yelling: **"DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"**

Dudley came waddling, shoving Harry to the side as he came. "**Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs.**

This time the "accidental magic" was on purpose. The glass disappeared, to accompanying screams, and the snake slithered out and across the floor snapping at Dudley's heels as she went. And Harry made the first decision that would change the timeline: he carefully picked her up, looped her around his neck, and took off running for the exit.

The keeper was too much in shock to stop him. "**But the glass," he kept saying, "where did the glass go?"**


	5. Chapter 4

Let's do It Right This Time, Chapter 4: Gringotts Bank

Harry was painfully aware that he didn't actually know where in London the Leaky Cauldron was from his location, as he had always either flooed or been taken by adults in the last timeline, but he couldn't exactly return to the Dursleys after the stunt he had just pulled, had he even wanted to, and he didn't have any muggle money or ID to get a hotel room.

And so he spent several hours of wandering through London, with the snake, Sssasha, disillusioned and wrapped around his shoulders like a living scarf. At last, he spotted the dingy pub, shimmering in and out of view between a restaurant and a jewelry store.

Harry pulled his hat down to hide his scar and strolled through the doors, carefully keeping up the wandless glamour on Sssasha, as well as silencing charms (she had been keeping up a steady commentary). Several pubgoers looked up at his entrance, but Harry kept his head down and walked straight to the counter, not wanting undue attention.

"Excuse me, sir?"

Tom looked up. "Here for Diagon, I assume?"

Harry nodded gratefully, and Tom put down a cloth he'd been using to clean up an ale spill. "Right this way," he said, leading Harry to the courtyard behind the Cauldron. Then he drew his wand and tapped the bricks in the correct sequence, explaining about the entrance to Diagon Alley as he did so. Harry thanked him tersely, too excited to listen to an explanation he'd heard thousands of times before, and almost tripped as he half-ran through the archway, Sssasha complaining plaintively about being jostled as he did so.

It was even more spectacular than Harry remembered. It had been rebuilt after the second war, of course, but after the resurrection of Voldemort, there had always been a hint of apprehension in the air that however Voldemort had come back before, he could always come back again. Then, too, some of the shops such as Twillfit and Tattings had been badly damaged or even leveled, and the Ministry reparations were not enough to cover everything a second time. And of course most of the shops had lost owners, cashiers, managers, and so on.

In this time, however, the Alley had been mostly rebuilt, and the post-war jubilation had not yet worn off. The streets were full of chattering people, and like the first time he had been here, he wished he had eight independently-moving eyes. But he had to get to Gringotts before anything else.

Gringotts was just as he remembered it, tall marble columns and grinning goblin guards wielding pole-axes, with the inscription against theft carved over the great mahogany doors. Harry inclined his head to the guards as he entered, not noticing the looks of surprise and the confused glances that the goblins shot each other, wondering why he was so respectful.

Harry got into one of the lines, lazily scanning the room for anyone he knew. There was no one. No one, that is, except for the teller in his own line. Griphook.

The line crawled along like an Asian centipede, but finally Harry reached Griphook's desk. Harry smiled without teeth, then nodded to the goblin. [After the break in at Gringotts, Harry had had to learn gobbledygook and goblin etiquette fluently, as well as pay plenty of fines, to get them to drop charges. They'd apparently been very impressed that he'd pulled it off, but as he'd managed to mess over their bank, free one of their dragons, and imperius a guard, they had also been very pissed off. They'd told him, in fact, that anyone else would have found himself in a blood feud with the clan of Gringotts so fast his head would spin.] Then he greeted Griphook in flawless gobbledygook.

"Well met, teller Griphook; may your vaults be without number and your enemies without escape. I ask to speak to Sculdig, account manager of House Potter."

Griphook's pupils dilated descernably, and the wizards behind Harry in line stared at both of them. Then Griphook returned the nod. "Well met, scion of House Potter, may your treasures be innumerable and your force inexorable. I will take you to Sculdig." Then he waved over one of the other tellers to take over where he left off, and led Harry deep into the bowels of Gringotts.

Sculdig's private office was rather plain, marked only by a silver plaque etched with his name on the door, and aside from unornamented furniture, the only furnishings within were several well-made tapestries. An older goblin who Harry recognized from the last timeline was sitting behind the desk, and Griphook rapidly explained everything to him in gobbledygook. Sculdig stared. Then he started smiling toothily. "Scion of House Potter, why do you wish to speak to me?"

Harry blinked. "I wish to have a heritage test done, and I would like to speak to a goblin healer and possibly a cursebreaker at once. As I don't know my assets, I guess we'll have to go from there."

"I have sent you statements for a long time, care of your magical guardian Albus Dumbledore. They should have been forwarded to you at the age of seven. Do you mean to say you have never received them?" Sculdig sounded affronted. "And why would you want to visit a goblin healer, rather than...one of your own kind?"

"I have never received any mail at all, much less bank statements, which leads me to believe that there is a mail ward on me or my place of residence." Actually, Harry knew that there was a mail ward, and not just that, either, but he would have no legitimate way to explain how he knew that, and he already sounded way too adult. Although to be fair, he _was _an adult, just stuck in a young body. Not that he could have explained _that_, either.

Sculdig was looking angrier and angrier. "That is illegal! And..." he sounded almost hesitant, "What of the healer?"

Harry decided just to go for it. "I have never had proper treatment for malnutrition and abuse. In addition, I would like to get my eyes fixed. I also believe that I have several magical blocks on my core, and my scar is..." He tore a corner of a bit of spare parchment, to write 'a horcrux'. Goblin law forbade the word to be spoken out loud.

Sculdig read the parchment and blanched. "_WHAT?!_" he roared when he could speak. "Malnutrition? Abuse?! _That _type of magic?! Who have you been living with?"

"My mother's sister," Harry responded. "Oh, while I'm here, could I possibly have acces to my mother's will?"

"Her will was sealed by Albus Dumbledore ten years ago; however, as primary beneficiary and blood relation, a copy can be provided for you," responded Sculdig mechanically, still in shock that a ten year old manchild should come to the goblins speaking fluent gobbledygook, and with such problems.

"Good. So...um...what should be done first?"

"I will send for a healer," replied Sculdig, and sent Griphook off to fetch a goblin called Murdock.


	6. Chapter 5

Let's Do It Right This Time, Chapter 5: Healing

In a few minutes, a surprisingly young female goblin bustled in. Harry had never actually seen a female goblin, and thought she was rather pretty (sharp teeth aside) but he quickly looked away before he could be caught staring.

"What seems to be the matter?" she asked.

Sculdig grimly told her what Harry had told him, and her face darkened with every word. Then she snapped her long fingers, casting a goblin diagnostic, and gasped.

"Well?" Asked Sculdig.

"Multiple poorly-healed broken bones, a ruptured spinal disc numbed by internal magics, bad malnutrition, scarring, an infected wound, an infected spleen, and scarred internal organs. And- oh good Thorbald!"

"What?" asked the Potter account manager, rather shakily.

"He has five magical blocks, one of which is on his healing magic. He's lucky to be alive."

Sculdig looked sick, and Harry was little better, as he was wondering how on earth had he survived the last time. "Five?" he echoed at length.

"Ye-yes." Murdock responded. "One on natural healing magic, one on any ability you might have for mind magics,"

Harry choked as he remembered the brutal occlumency lessons and realized that Dumbledore had never had any intention of teaching him to close his mind to Voldemort.

"-One block on accidental magic, specifically of the wish variety, one on quasi-metamorphagous and self-transfigurative abilities, and the last on your core." She frowned, thinking. "And I'm getting a very dark reading on your aura, but you yourself aren't dark. I- oh good, gracious Thorbald! I can't believe it! You really are a soul ves..." she trailed off, unable to bring herself to say even the euphemism for horcrux. "I've never seen anything like it! And you've never had treatment?"

"My guardians took me to a muggle hospital for a broken arm once," Harry responded, remembering that day. Dudley had broken his arm on the playground in preschool, and Mrs. Donahue had happened to have been walking by. She'd called the Dursleys to a parent-teacher conference and kicked up a fuss, and the Dursleys took him to the hospital so as not to seem uncaring. Mrs. Donahue had been fired by her boss, who played golf with Vernon Dursley on weekends, shortly after, and Harry had been locked in his cupboard for a week.

Murdock was evidently scandalized. "You'll need a month's regamin of potions, and you're very lucky you came to me before it got worse. I can fix your eyes right now, if you like, with medical transfiguration. Your magical blocks will need to be taken off during the course of a week, and I ought to warn you, your magic will be very hard to control for a while. As for the...you-know-what, there are rituals to remove one from an object, but it will take a great number of arithmetical equations before I can be sure they will be safe to use on you."

"And the cost?" Harry was almost afraid to ask.

"I..." Murdock looked at Sculdig, "If you will only let me experiment on your scar, I will waive the cost. An opportunity like this...it's once in a lifetime."

Harry stared at her. "Um, of course."

She smiled. "I'm so sorry you have to go through this," she continued, shaking her head. "I'm just glad I can help. Will you be pressing charges?"

"Maybe." Harry's plans hadn't fully percolated, as some of them would depend on the goblins, but he was definitely going to make their lives hard one way or another. "I might not have to- the Wizarding world will go spare when they find out how they've treated 'The Savior of the Wizarding World'."

Sculdig chuckled. "You could almost be a goblin yourself."

Murdock had been busy casting diagnostics from different angles. Now she straightened up. "If you like, I can fix your eyesight now,"

Harry grinned. "Absolutely!"

"I have to warn you that it'll hurt badly," Murdock told him. "It won't be for long though."

It couldn't be worse than a _crucitus_. Harry nodded. "Ok, when you're ready." That was when he looked up and saw both goblins staring at him, and realized that he'd spoken the first part out loud.

"When have you been exposed to the _crucitus_?" Sculdig asked.

"I...well..." Harry glanced at all three of them. "May I have an honor vow to be discrete? Not because I doubt you," he added hastily, "but so that no one can force it out of you."

The goblins glanced at each other and then at him. "On the Phlegathon I swear," said Sculdig at last, echoed by the others, "not to share the next thing Harry Potter shares with us except to my king or on Potter's permission."

Harry stared at them, not believing it. Goblins had given him, a wizard, a binding honor vow. He was touched by their sincerity. "I'm a time traveler," he told them finally. "It was my fourth year, during a duel."

Utter silence. And then at last Sculdig burst out laughing. "You are a truly remarkable human. You do know that time travel is only outlawed under Wizarding law? I could...perhaps...fix a few documents for you..."

Harry had never actually known any wizard who had helped him so much in his lifetime, and said so. Sculdig was pragmatic. "Well, the Potters are extraordinary customers. I would be a fool not to help."

Harry grinned. "So now maybe about my eyes?"

Murdock emobilized him with a flick of her wrist, and made a few odd gestures. Harry's eyes exploded into pain, and when at last he blinked away the tears..."I can see!" Harry gazed around the room, grinning widely as he picked out each suddenly-sharp detail. He goblins smiled at his jubilation.


	7. Chapter 6

Let's Do It Right This Time, Chapter 6: Inheritance

"Most of the other healing will have to wait until I make the right potions," Murdock continued after Harry had finished gushing happily. "Although I can heal the infected scrape on your knee right now." She did so. "I will probably have to collaborate with a cursebreaker about the soul vessel ritual, and you will need to have bed rest and some specialized foods before I'll even _think _about taking off those blocks. In the mean time, do you have any more business with Sculdig?"

"Yeah," Harry glanced over at the older goblin. "I wanted to do an inheritance test first thing."

Sculdig nodded. "I believe that you said as much." He removed an enchanted roll of parchment, an engraved bowl, and a silver knife etched with runes. "You just need to cut your hand and let some of the blood fall on the parchment. It will then show you what lines you can claim and what claim you have to them."

Harry nodded, and then held his hand over the bowl, cutting it and letting it drip. After a few seconds, Murdock healed his hand. Then Harry poured the blood in a thin, continuous line onto the parchment, where it glistened wetly for a minute and then soaked in. And then words began tracing themselves on the parchment.

**_*Ancient and Noble House Potter- second heir by right of blood through James Potter_**

**_Most Ancient and Most Noble House Peverall- heir by blood and magic through Velika Peverall by way of James Potter, heir apparent by right of conquest by the defeat of Tom Riddle, through Asha Peverall by way of Merope Gaunt_**

**_Ancient and Noble House Gryffindor- heir apparent by right of blood through Lorelei Gryffindor by way of James Potter_**

**_Ancient and Noble House Black- heir by right of blood and magic through Dorea Black by way of James Potter_**

**_Most Ancient and Most Noble House Gaunt- heir apparent by right of conquest by the defeat of Tom Riddle heir through Merope Gaunt_**

**_Ancient and Noble House Slytherin- heir apparent by right of conquest by the defeat of Tom Riddle, heir through Jocasta Slytherin by way of Merope Gaunt_**

**_Most Ancient and Most Noble House Merlin- heir apparent by right of blood through Zelda Merlin by way of Lily Evans_**

**_Noble House Grey- heir apparent by right of conquest by the defeat of Tom Riddle, through Jean Grey by way of Tom Riddle Sr._**

**_Noble House Reims- heir apparent by right of blood through Melissa Reims by way of Lily Evans_**

**_Noble House Starvling- heir apparent by right of blood through Calphurnia Starvling by way of Lily Evans_**

**_Ancient and Noble House Mordrake- heir apparent by right of blood through Elizabeth Mordrake by way of Lily Evans_**

**_Noble House Jones- heir by right of blood through Diana Jones by way of James Potter_**

**_Noble House Boniface- heir apparent by right of blood through Cara Boniface by way of Lily Evans_**

**_Noble House Angeles- heir apparent by right of blood through Camomile Angeles by way of Lily Evans_**

**_Noble House Anaheim- second heir by right of blood through Sarah Anaheim by way of Lily Evans_**

Harry was staring at the parchment open-mouthed. "Not possible," he whispered.

"Oh, it's quite possible," returned Sculdig from where he had been looking over Harry's shoulder. "As your mother appears to have been heir to Merlin, she would doubtless be related to many minor Noble Houses. Every time the all the immediate members of one of these Houses die out, the house reverted back to her. You will have a great deal of sway on the Wizengamot when you are of age. As a matter of fact, I could probably get you emancipated now, by using old Pureblood laws."

"I...I thought she was a muggleborn," said Harry shakily.

Sculdig snorted. "Magic has to come from somewhere. True muggleborns are astronomically low. However, wizards have a nasty little habit of turning out their squibs and not bothering to disinherit them, as squibs cannot inherit anyway. So then a few generations down the line, a 'muggleborn' pops up. I always wondered why so-called muggleborns didn't even try to test for an inheritance."

"I don't think they know it's an option," Harry responded.

"You could be right." Sculdig sighed. "It's just a waste. All those unclaimed vaults..."

Harry was thinking of all the lives that could be improved. Oh well, just another thing to accomplish after Voldie was dead. Evidently he had a lot of political power, and probably a lot of gold, and the Maurader in him couldn't think of any better way to spend it than on a revolution. "And then something else occurred to him, and he laughed at the sheer irony it would be. "Hypothetically, if someone forced the heir apparent of Merlin into marriage by use of the 'Pleasure law', could it be brought up in court as line theft, being as the 'Pleasure law' only applies to muggleborns?"

Sculdig nodded.

"And if the same someone were to willfully endanger said heir apparent and her child?"

"You could get them shoved through the veil at the very least. Why? I'm assuming it's _not _hypothetical?"

"That's what my father did to my mum. As soon as the war is over, so help me he's going to pay."

"As soon as the war is over, especially if you help win it, I will convince Ragnok to help you shaft every one of your enemies," Sculdig promised with a wicked grin. "Now, about that will?"

"Yeah." Harry was a little shaky thinking about his mum's will, but he knew this was as good a time as any to look over it, as his summer was going to be full of shopping, training, and medicines. "Yeah, I'd really like to see it."

Sculdig nodded to Griphook, who left the room and returned with a little safe and a key. Harry's fingers shook as he opened it. Inside there were seven letters, with the names _Severus, Harry, James, Remus, Sirius, Petunia, _and _Alice_, a manila envelope with a few sheets of parchment in it, a key-ring, a necklace, and a bottle of Felix Felicis. Harry stared at it for a long time. At last, he lifted out the letter with his name on it and slit it open with the discarded ritual-knife.

_Dearest Harry, _(the letter began)

_I hope to be able to tell you all of these things myself, but I have a feeling that I will not be able to. If you're reading this, I have been betrayed killed. I am what is called a muggleborn, and if you don't know, it is a custom among the old families to marry one for "fresh blood" and despose of them later. _(Harry growled.) _I hope that James is more noble, but nobility is not a quality he possesses in excess. If I am gone, and you don't remember me, I want you to know that I love you more than anything in the world, and nothing can ever change that. _

_I could not say everything that I am bequeathing you in detail in the will, because by pureblood law James has to look over it, but I'm giving you the deeds to a little house I bought called Ravenhurst; it's unplottable, if you need to hide. I don't have many liquid assets in my vault, or otherwise James would make me give it to him, but there's gold and jewels under the mattress pad in Ravenhurst, and I left you a lot of books, a chest full of potion supplies (it's a good thing James never payed attention in potions, or he'd realize how valuable they are) and a charmed sword in the vault. The sword actually belonged to Merlin himself! _

_About your father. Our marriage was not one of love. A few good things I can say about him was that he was whip smart, handsome, and loyal to his friends. He was also an arrogant bully, but he did eventually mature...a little. If I had had my way, I would have married a boy I loved in school, Severus Snape, but...James, well, to tell you the truth, he had me in a corner literally and figuratively. I consider that the only good thing about our marriage is you._

_About Severus. If he is still alive, please, for my sake, give him the letter I left him. James forced me by an unbreakable vow to cut all ties with him in 5th year, and as he was already bullied and deep in the Dark Arts, I think it was the final straw for him. I forgive him, I love him, I need him to forgive himself. He is not an easy man to get along with, but he is a most talented potion master, and would have been a good Quiddich player (in the seeker position) but James bribed the Slytherin Quiddich captain to kick him off the team._

_About the Marauders. When your father was eleven, he made friends with three other boys: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. All of them were pranksters, and to various degrees, bullies. I know for a fact that Peter is a Death Eater, but James, the bastard, won't listen to me. I swear that he will kill us in our sleep! Sirius was a bully in school, but he's grown up since, and out of all of them, he's the only one I trust. Remmy, the other boy, has a good heart, but he is very clingy and manipulatable; he's a werewolf, and thinks that the other three boys are angels for letting him be friends with them, and that the sun shines out of Dumbledore's every orifice because he let him come to Hogwarts and be the token werewolf._

_Speaking of Dumbledore, don't trust the bastard as far as you can throw him, whatever he says. Perhaps he means well, but he plays favorites, allows Gryffindor bullies to get off with lines for almost killing people from other houses, puts loyalty potion in those lemon drops (Sev tested them once) and is all about the Greater Good._

_The prophecy: I doubt anyone will have told you, but the reason we went into hiding when you were born was because of a prophecy delivered to Dumbledore. It's my personal opinion that it's baloney, but just in case, here it is:_

The one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies, and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he shall have power the Dark Lord knows not, and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.

_The prophecy, of it is indeed a prophecy, could apply to either you or my best friend's boy Neville, but Dumbledore says that it applies to you, which I'm not happy about, especially since James is talking about using the Godric's hollow house, with Pettigrew as Secret Keeper. We could just stay at Potter Manor, which has much stronger wards and doesn't require putting our lives in the traitor's hands. I worry. I don't know what either James or Dumbledore are doing and I think they're planning something together._

_But anyway, don't grieve for me! Get stellar grades, go on vacation, go shopping, just have fun! Even (God forbid) get on a Quiddich team! And seek out Alice, Sirius, and Severus; they'll always help you. And get a heritage test! I never got a chance to do mine, and you never know; maybe you're secretly Merlin's heir!_

_\- Lily Evans_

_PS. I wanted to name you Aurelius, after Marcus Aurelius_

AN: the multiple heirships is supposed to be a little parody; don't flame me about it being unrealistic.


	8. Chapter 7

Let's Do It Right This Time, Chapter 7: Aurelius Gaunt

The goblins politely left Harry alone as he cried. After all this time! If he had only spoken to the goblins the first time around, he wouldn't have had to figure things out in bits and pieces, wouldn't have been surprised and hurt when James had shown up on his doorstep.

At last, dry eyed, he pulled the will out and read it. The contents were simple: a 100 G stipend a month to Lupin ("and you can't give it back; I'm dead"), some personal things to Petunia, and her private vault to Harry, the rest going to James. Harry suspected that there had also been something for Snape, but that James had put his foot down. The only other things in the box that weren't personal letters was a note attached to the bottle of Felix Felicis:

_I won this from Sluggy three years ago, and hid it from James. It keeps really well, so it still should be good. Don't use it in law or competitions- otherwise go wild._

At this point, Harry decided that he needed to claim his Houses and figure out his assets; he wanted just to grieve for his mother, but a lot of things depended on acting now, before Dumbledore figured out he wasn't at the Dursleys. He called Sculdig over.

"How do I claim my Head of House for any of my Houses?"

"If your inheritance paper says 'heir apparent', you just have to see if the House Ring accepts you. If it doesn't, you're not ready, but I hardly see that happening."

"Will it hurt me if it doesn't accept me?" asked Harry worriedly.

"Not unless you're a false claimant. Shall I send for the rings?"

"Yes please."

Sculdig called in a young goblin called Logjam and told him to get the rings while Harry squirmed impatiently. At last, Logjam came back with a box full of rings. Most Ancient and Most Noble House Merlin ( a sapphire and amethyst thunderbolt) Ancient and Noble House Slytherin (four intertwining emerald snakes) Most Ancient and Most Noble House Gaunt (a black dragon of obsidian) Ancient and Noble House Gryffindor (a golden lion with red eyes) Most Ancient and Most Noble House Peverall (the symbol of the Hallows) Noble House Grey (a single pearl) Noble House Angeles (a pair of silver wings) Noble House Boniface (a golden rose) Noble House Starvling (a silver starling) Noble House Reims (a golden weasel) and Ancient and Noble House Mordrake (a pair of dragons grappling).

Harry stared at the box. Then, slowly, he reached for the first ring...

An hour later, Sculdig was smiling at the dumbfounded wizard, and explaining the rules governing House Rings. "Only you can take off the rings, and they can be banished to, I suppose you could say, magical space until you need them. All you have to do then is simply think which one or ones that you want to see. The Ancient and Noble Houses allow you a seat on the Wizengamot; the Most Ancient and Most Noble Houses allow you 2. Thus you have 9 seats- quite the voting block! As you are the last available heir for Houses Merlin and Mordrake, you can file for emancipation. You will, of course, need to learn Wizarding politics; I can't profess to be able to help with that."

Harry had simply been trying to soak in all that Sculdig was telling him. Now he was finally realizing something else.

"Manager Sculdig?"

"Yes?"

"If I were to change my name, would it be magically binding in every way?"

"Yes," replied Sculdig.

"And would tracking charms meant for Harry Potter find me?"

"Only blood trackers, which are horribly inaccurate. So you want to change your name?"

Harry had often thought of changing his name just to spite James. Now he actually had a legitimate reason! "Can that be arranged?"

"Yes. I can also bury the paperwork so that the Wizarding world will not be able to find out." Sculdig's grin was positively feral. "You can use a muggle surname, as well as any one of the Wizarding names you have claim to. I suggest one of the Most Ancient and Most Noble Houses, perhaps Peverall."

"Hmm." Harry thought for a moment. He was definitely going to use the name Aurelius, because it was the one his mother had wanted, and probably Sirius as a middle name. And, what with what his mother had said in the letter, and with what Snape had done for him (despite being a total bastard about it) he might just pick Severus. "Gaunt." he said at length.

"Pardon?" Sculdig blinked.

"Aurelius Sirius Severus Gaunt," Harry told him.

Sculdig frowned. "Granted, Gaunt is a powerful name, but it's also Dark. May I ask why you would choose it?"

"To piss Voldemort off." Harry responded, grinning. "He thought he was heir to House Gaunt."

Sculdig gave a startled laugh. "You are truly a remarkable human." He sent Logjam for paperwork to confirm the name, and Griphook for a blood quill, and called up a handful of discrete goblin witnesses, and soon Harry was signing the documents, as the last heir of an Ancient and Noble House could sign contracts without his guardian after age seven, as the family magics would protect him or her from harm. Then the goblins put a copy in their archives, and sent another copy, this one sealed, to the ministry.

"Is there anything else, _Aurelius_?" Sculdig was almost teasing.

"Well, if I'm Aurelius Gaunt now, then Harry Potter has to disappear," said Aurelius with a devious smile. "And what better way to do that than for him to die? If we're lucky, we can implicate the Dursleys and kill two basilisks with one sword?"

Sculdig was almost wriggling in glee. "That can be arranged. If you do do that, however, you'll need a disguise."

"Honestly, me without my scar would be disguise enough. But you're right, anyone who knew my parents could probably recognize me. Hmm. What do you suggest?"

"I was rather hoping you would ask that." Sculdig rummaged in his desk drawer. "There will be a cost, I'm afraid, but even a muggleborn could afford it." After a moment, he pulled out a plain-looking muggle-made watch. "This is a glamourie watch- we normally use them when disguised as humans to work in muggle banks. It can be set to any appearance. Do you have any preference?"

"Yeah, I'd like to keep the green eyes, but I want my face completely different- I hate looking like a clone of James Potter. And can you make my hair longer, and wavy?"

"I'll have someone adapt the charm," Sculdig told him, scrawling a few notes on a bit of parchment and sending it and the watch off with Logjam. "What else?"

"Well, I kinda want to know what all I have in my vaults. Do you have a self-updating account book or something?"

"Indeed. I will help you go over it, if you like."

"That would be great!"

Sculdig pulled a musty old book out of his desk and muttered a few spells, changing the content to a list of all his vaults and what they contained. Aurelius was open-mouthed by the end. Countless out-of-print books, priceless artifacts, a 60 percent share in Hogwarts school, (courtesy of the founders), armor, weapons, potions and wandmaking supplies, 9 percent shares in Nimbus brooms, a dragon reserve (Aurelius was definitely going to give Hagrid a job there), more than ten properties, and liquid assets in the billions of galleons. Oh, and the freaking _hippogriff farm_!

After a few hours' discussion with Sculdig, Aurelius had decided on living in an unplottable tower known simply as Haven, which had been in the Mordrake family for centuries, as other properties (Merlin's castle in Transylvania, Slytherin manor, Gryffindor manor, two Gryffindor houses, an inn from the Peverall line, a tavern called the Green Dolphin, a pet shop, a villa in Spain, two restaurants, a potion supply store, and three more houses in various countries,) either needed to be cleared of possible Dark artifacts, were rather rundown, or were simply too big or otherwise unsuitable for living, and he was not going to visit Ravenhurst just yet.

After that, Aurelius decided he'd had enough. While Sculdig was helpful and fun to talk to, once you got used to him, Aurelius felt as if his head would explode if he discussed finances and business strategy any longer, and he still had to come back for the rest of the month to discuss alliances and possibly learn some goblin fighting and warding, if they would let him, as well as be healed and relieved of the blocks on his magic, and maybe get looked at by a cursebreaker.

So when Logjam at last came in with the doctored watch, Aurelius quickly picked it up and put it on, listening to Sculdig, who said that to activate it, he simply had to tap a rune etched into the back, and to deactivate it, just press in the knob.

It certainly worked. Aurelius glanced into the offered mirror and gasped; he looked rather disturbingly like a male Bellatrix Black, only sweeter-looking, with Lily's eyes and blond hair instead of black. Aurelius grinned. He was going to have so much fun with this!

"Hey, so you happen to have anything like a muggle credit card?" He asked Sculdig all of a sudden. "Like, so you don't have to go back to your vault every time you need more gold?"

"Of course. It's simply a pouch that takes the exact amount you need out of whichever vault you specify. It costs three G, but I assure you that you have enough. I can take it straight out of your vault if you want."

"Sure!"

So it was that in a little over then half an hour Aurelius Gaunt walked out of the bank, disguised, stripped of tracking charms, and carrying his new instant galleon pouch, all set up with an appointment with Murdock, and ready to shop and then settle into his new tower. Life, for the first time ever in both timelines, was turning out to be ok. Well, except for the fact that Sssasha was complaining incessantly about wanting a fresh mouse...


	9. Chapter 8

Let's Do It Right This Time, Chapter 8: Shopping

Aurelius was very excited. For the first time, he could go shopping with unlimited funds, and he wouldn't be recognized by his fawning fans. The best of both worlds!

He already had a rough list of what he wanted to buy, but the first thing he needed...was a wand. And he was _not _going to Ollivander's, at least not for his primary wand. He knew that the man reported everything to Dumbledore. Besides, the wand choses the wizard- no generic wand would serve as well as a custom one, and more importantly, for the right price some wandmakers would leave off the tracking charms (Ollivander couldn't offer that because his wands were ready made, and so the ministry made sure they had trackers on them.) Not that he'd need that if the goblins were able to emancipate him. All the same, an untraceable wand would be very helpful if he had to cast...say...an unforgivable.

What was more, there was a very good custom wand store in Knock Turn Alley, which used all sorts powerful cores, even illegal ones, and could be bribed to leave off trackers in return for an unbreakable vow preventing you from telling such things to the aurors, on pain of obliviation. Harry had actually been with the auror squad that busted their circle in the previous timeline, rather against his will. All the same, they had the _best _custom wands.

Twigg's Wand Emporium was a small, and rather dusty shop, which looked as if it's last customer had left before the Bronze Age. Aurelius stepped inside, the bell tinkling reluctantly as he did so. A "Just a minute," issued from the back room, and then a plump older woman in cranberry robes bustled out. "Will you be wanting a custom wand, or a premade one?"

"Custom, please," replied Aurelius quickly. "And, if possible, untraceable."

The witch smiled. "I was hoping you would say that. I don't get much of a challenge these days..."

"So, uh, how does a custom wand work? Is there some sort of spell you do to figure out what the wand is made of?"

"No. _Y__ou _pick the core and wood; we just have to see what you're drawn to." She led Aurelius into a smaller adjoining room. "Just pick up what materials feel right; chances are if you can feel an affinity before the wand is even made, when it is made it'll be even stronger." She nodded at the baskets and jars of woods and cores. "Go on,"

Aurelius wandered through the room, wondering what it was supposed to feel like. Then, from a basket of scrubby wood, he felt a sudden, unexplainable tug. He reached in, pulled out a particular bit of wood, smooth against his fingers, and read the yellowing, musty card that told him what it was...

"Ash. Very good! One of the few woods that doesn't have a predetermination of light or dark magic. You could do anything with an ash wand!"

Aurelius might have responded, but he was busy searching for a core. At last, he pulled a black hair out of a little jar, and handed it to Madame Twigg. She blinked. "Thestral? You can _see _thestral? I normally only offer that core to soldiers."

"Mhmm," was Aurelius's only response. He knew subconsciously that his wand would have to have multiple cores to suit him, and he was busy trying to find the others. And then, suddenly, he knew. "Do you happen to have phoenix tears and basilisk venom?"

"Of course, but normally they won't work together in a core. They either fight or neutralize each other."

"Just try it, please. I promise I'll pay for the wasted ingredients if this doesn't work out."

She shrugged a bit confusedly, but got to work at once, telling Aurelius either to wait outside, or to come back in two hours. Aurelius, knowing that he would have precious little time in the future to do anything but down healing potions, decided to go shop for the rest of what he would need.

The first thing that he would need after a wand would definitely be a trunk. At Parcel and Trunk, he searched all over the store for a trunk, at last resorting to buying one of the fancier ones (five warded compartments, one for books, with a self indexing charm, one for potion ingredients, with a stasis charm, one for robes, with cleaning and ironing charms, one for things you want to keep secret, (and Heaven knows he had enough of those) and a section that just looked like an ordinary trunk. Each section had an individualized password (Sugar Quills, Cauldron Cakes, Violet Velvet, Pepper Imps, and Licorice Wands, to throw Dumbledore off, with all but the last being in parcelmouth; Sssasha was much amused) and he also got the trunk maker to add another compartment, furnished as an apartment like Moody's had been.

The entire thing was warded and trapped to the gills, including with blood wards, and to break into it you'd have to be...well...Voldemort. And it was even pretty, made of ebony and dragonhide, his personal crest (a phoenix battling a basilisk) detailed on the front, and the inside lined with dark blue velvet. Aurelius was very happy with his purchase, and so was the trunk maker.

Next Aurelius went to Flourish and Blotts, but aside from school books, the only thing he found that he actually wanted to read was an occlumency book called_ Unveiling the Mind_, which he actually already owned, due to his enormous inheritance, most of which, after gold, was books. Besides, the cashier was giving him dirty looks for looking extensively in the Dark Arts section.

So he bought his school books and beat a hasty retreat to Madame Malkin's, where he bought school robes, dress robes, robes for everyday wear, and Wizengamot robes, along with a charmed silk "sweater" for Sssasha for the winter, and house elf uniforms with the Gaunt crest. All this was followed by an order for some muggle clothes, and by the time he had been fitted, the two hour wait for the wand was up.

"I have it here," the woman said as he came in the door. "A very interesting wand; it will be very potent, if you can get it to work."

Aurelius picked it up, and the only way to describe the sensation it gave him would be to say it _sung_. Sparks roared from the tip as though it were a bag of Filibuster Fireworks, beads of silver light skittering about like insects, shapes leaping, half-formed- snakes, gryphons, hippogriffs, dragons, wolves, and so on.

The wand maker was staring at him in awe. "W...ell, I guess it was a good fit," was all she said as he paid. The wand was more expensive than Ollivander's usual price, but after the surge of power it had given Aurelius, he was definitely ready to pay it. What was more, she didn't even ask for a vow! It would seem that they didn't have to be so careful in this timeline.

After that, he went to the Owl Emporium, where he found a certain white owl...

"Hey girl,"he said, taking her to the checkout line, "Do you mind if I call you Hedwig?"

...and to the Quiddich supply store for a Nimbus 1000.

A few other things, like a boot knife, wand holster, various devices like a dark detector, foe glass, sneakoscope, and other detection or protection devices, as well as a dragonskin jacket and prank supplies, and Aurelius was ready to call it a day. After all, he'd have a lot going on tomorrow, and he had no idea what to expect when the blocks were off, as he'd already considered himself a decently powered wizard, and that was him at half-mast.

The only interesting part about the day was that he actually met both Arthur Weasley and Severus Snape, as well as Dolores Bloody Umbridge. He could scarcely refrain from hugging Mr. Weasley and hexing Umbridge, and he really, _really_ wanted both to shake Snape and to hug him (the latter almost as much to see the look on his face as it was that he was happy to see him).

He ended up just saying hello to Arthur, ignoring Umbridge so he wouldn't be tempted to hex her into a bloody mess, and having the first civilized conversation in his life with Snape, about, of all things, potions!

All in all, a quite forfilling day.


	10. Chapter 9

Let's Do It Right This Time, Chapter 9: Magical Blocks

Aurelius was woken by a flood of butter-colored light, spilling in through the window of his new tower. For a moment, he lay in bed, unable to figure out where he was. Then everything came rushing back, and he realized that he was about to be late for a meeting with Murdock.

Jumping up hastily, Aurelius ran for the front room, where he'd left the portkey the goblins had given him; his new tower didn't have a floo connection yet, and while he _could _apparate, he would likely get a letter from the ministry for underage magic. Quickly, he picked up the portkey, muttered the password (Dragon Fodder; goblins had a slightly unnerving brand of humor) and reappeared in the Gringotts portkey terminal. Murdock was waiting for him.

"Greetings, Lord Gaunt, may your line be blessed and your enemies bleeding." She said in gobbledygook, ignoring the startled looks of the other wizards arriving.

Aurelius grinned at the creative greeting. A wizard would just have said hello. "Greetings, Healer Murdock, may your patience and your vaults be without limit," he replied in the same language, and using the traditional Healers' greeting. Murdock looked very pleased as she took him four levels down to the goblin hospital.

Once there, however, she was all no nonsense again. "I trust you haven't eaten anything yet?"

"No, esteemed Healer."

"Oh, just call me Murdock," the goblin returned. "No one's watching." She blinked. "I'm taking you to a private room. I'm only going to remove two blocks on you today, for your own safety, and depending on how it goes we'll write up a schedule for the rest of the week. I have your potion list and diet with me today; I warn you it will be very strict for the first two weeks. I and Mugwart are working through the arithmetic equations for the soul anchor ritual, and we're having some progress; we think that it'll be all ironed out by the end of the summer. But right now, I'm removing the block on mental magic, as it is the weakest."

"And after that?"

"The block on self-transfigurative magics." Murdock politely turned her back as Aurelius stripped, then helped him into a bed, covering him with a loose blanket. "I'm sorry, but this will hurt a lot."

"Oh, I can probably handle- aaaaarg!" Aurelius broke off, clutching at his head, which felt as though a few blast-ended skrewts were having a fight in his skull, without regard to his brain. And then everything went black.

Aurelius woke up feeling a little light-headed, but great. Partly because Murdock was bathing his forehead with a wet cloth, almost exactly where his scar was. Damn, that goblin was hot.

"How long was I out?" He asked her hoarsely.

"Six hours, give or take. You're getting bed rest and shots of coconut water with potions to help stabilize your regained magic, and then in about four hours we will take off the block on self-transfigurative magic, which shouldn't hurt so much. I would have taken off the block on your healing magic first, but that one is really strong and deeply ingrained." She winced. "I have to say, _anyone _who does that to a child- even a perceived child..." she added hastily at Aurelius's cough.

"Whoever did it is going to get shafted after this war is over," commented Sculdig, who had just come in. "I'd do it sooner, but Manager Ragnok thinks that whoever it is is on the so-called Light side, and that they'll still be needed until the war is over."

"You're probably right," muttered Aurelius at the same time that Murdock exclaimed "Light side my arse, that's evil!"

Aurelius couldn't have agreed more.

After five hours of being rather babied by Murdock, in between Sculdig popping in to teach him a bit of goblin cursebreaking- theory only- and discuss future plans, Aurelius was finally judged ready for the second round. This time, when Murdock cast the spell to remove the block, it didn't hurt, only there was a sense of something releasing deep within him, and his skin crawled all over. Then his hair began to turn colors of an unseemly bright hue, Tonks- don't call me Nymphadora- style, as the goblins laughed.

Aurelius simply grinned uncontrollably, before slumping back and sleeping for nine hours straight.

The next morning he had to start on his potion regimen: nutrient potions, antibiotic potions, bone correcters, painkillers, and anti-inflammatories, along with a light breakfast of fruit. He rested all day, (Murdock wouldn't let him talk finances with Sculdig, not even a little bit, or study; after she threatened to hex him senseless, he compromised by reading a bit of Arabian poetry, which, while educational, was also fun.) That evening, he took more potions, and then had an early night (also at Murdock's insistence.)

The day after was when they reached their first snag. Murdock had taken off his blocks on accidental magic and natural healing power, which weren't a problem, and she'd decided after an eleven hour wait to release the last block, the one on his magical core.

She had not planned enough. Oh, to be sure, she knew that his power was going to surge, but she accounted for only a fraction of his potential. When the block was released, the resulting surge knocked her senseless against the wall, filling the air with a smell of burning ozone and cinnamon, and Aurelius himself was nearly fried with the influx of out-of-control magic.

It took fully a month, and a team of goblin healers and therapists to help Aurelius to fully control his new power, and another two weeks of potions, medical spells, diet, and exercise before Aurelius could really be considered in good shape. But at last, he was healed physically, and ready for the next step.

By the end of the summer, Murdock and Mugwart had checked and rechecked their equations, and had collected all the ingredients for the potions necessary for the horcrux ritual. In late October, the goblin Healer and the cursebreaker reserved one of Gringotts' warded ritual rooms, and began to prepare it for what was to come.

It took seven days to prepare, and then they had to brew the potions and wait for the new moon, while Aurelius was kept to a stringent vegetarian diet. The night before, Murdock bathed a furiously blushing Aurelius in the ritual cistern, "I'm a Healer, it's not like a haven't see human bits before; calm down!" and rubbed him with olive oil, phœnix tears, and palm wine as required.

The day of, Aurelius was kept in a drugged sleep until just before the sun was setting, and then was led into the ritual chamber, barefoot, clothed in white robes and unadorned by anything else. Everyone left the room except Murdock, Mugwart, and an apprentice, and they began.

Aurelius knelt in the center of a runic ring, still rather woosy from the dreamless sleep potion, and watched as four bowls were placed at the four points of the circle, one filled with sand, one dew, one with a little incense fire, and one containing nothing but air.

Murdock approached silently, holding a finger to her lips, and before Aurelius realized what she was doing she slit his scar with an athame and began to drip a steady stream of some kind of potion into it, as Aurelius writhed and tried desperately not to cry out. Then Mugwart was chanting a modified exorcism incantation as Aurelius foamed and fought, and then it was over, and Aurelius was dimly aware of Murdock's soft hands propping his head up and pouring a grainy liquid down his throat, murmuring apologetically. His last thought as the world flickered in and out was "God, she's beautiful."

He would only later find out that he'd spoken aloud.


	11. Chapter 10

Let's Do It Right This Time, Chapter 10: Making Changes

AN: This is a little choppy, I know. I'm trying to condense almost a year of action into one chapter, because I know everyone is probably really impatiently waiting for him to go to Hogwarts again, but some of the summer activities will be very important later.

It was late November by the time Aurelius had fully recovered from the horcrux removal ritual and moved back into Haven Tower. He would have actually stayed with the goblins longer, learning goblin magic and how to financially crush his enemies, but after a solid month of both Sculdig and Mugwart teasing him about only wanting to stay because of Murdock, which was rather too close to the truth for the wizard's comfort, he decided he needed to get off his arse and start implementing his plans.

His absolute first priority was Sirius Black. The man had been wrongfully imprisoned for ten years now, and now that Aurelius was free and able to help him, he simply couldn't _not_. Besides, he rather selfishly wanted his godfather back, even though he knew that as Aurelius Gaunt, Sirius probably wouldn't want anything to do with him.

He could probably have just broken him out and hid him in one of his safe houses, but that was opening a whole 'nother can of worms, and he didn't want to deal with a dementor patrol in his first year; eventually he would snap and cast a patronus, which was something a first year, even an absurdly powerful one like himself, wasn't supposed to be able to do. Besides, there would be enough fervor when Dumbledore, and by extension the Wizarding world, realized Harry Potter was missing.

So it was that on a particular Sunday morning in December that Amelia Bones found a letter in her desk. Now it was not, of course, unusual that Madame Bones found letters and memos on her desk; her secretary, a junior auror, tended to dump piles of mail he thought she had to deal with herself on her desk. No, this was odd because it had no owl address, and appeared to be sealed with the lost Peverall Family signet.

Always the auror, she waved her wand over it, checking for potions, hexes, muggle biological agents, and other traps. There were none. Frowning, she scanned it again. And again. Nothing. No traps, no curses, no portkeys. And so she drew on dragonhide gloves and tore it open with the help of a penknife.

_Dear Madame Bones, _(it read)

_I have recently come upon a rather disturbing matter with which I hope you may and will endeavor to look into. It seems that my cousin, Sirius Black, has been imprisoned for ten years in Azkaban without due process of law. As far as I can tell from perusing the public transcripts, he has never actually had a trial under veritaserum, or indeed, any trial at all. If there was one, it was very likely of the 'shut up and don't defend yourself or else- oh look, he's guilty' type, knowing that Barty Crouch Sr. hated him and Lucius Malfoy was bribing Bagnold (which I have receipts for)._

_Not only this, but I have further evidence of his innocence. Is it not a matter of public record that he is Harry Potter's godfather? How, then, could he betray the Potters, and still live? His vows would have killed him! Why was his wand not checked when he was brought in, isn't that auror policy? I can guarantee you would have found the last spell cast was certainly not a _bombarda_. Why was he not checked for the Dark Mark, or questioned under veritaserum? Why was his animagus form, registered in the Americas, not taken into account; an animagus form reflects the character of the wizard, and the fact that he was a dog ought to at least raise questions._

_I also happen to know, from sources I cannot expose, that the 'late' Peter Pettigrew was an illegal rat animagus, and as, it seems, that a body was never found (except for a finger) there is a chance that he escaped in that form. One Remus Lupin can be brought in to testify concerning his form, as can one Severus Snape, if Lupin is not considered an acceptable witness concerning this fact._

_Also, why was Albus Dumbledore never questioned under vow or serum concerning the identity of the secret keeper? He was the one who conducted the spell, and he would know._

_Please look into this; I need closure badly, and I don't have the authority to call a trial before the Wizengamot._

_Sincerely, Lord Peverall_

Lord _Peverall_? Amelia Bones was every kind of confused, and she was also rather horrified. If what...Lord Peverall was saying was true, justice had miscarried horribly, and a guilty man had been given an Order of Merlin for his crimes, while an innocent one had been left to rot in Azkaban. And who was this mysterious lord? How did he know all this? Why did it only come up now? Still musing, she sent several hasty memos, and went to dig up the trial transcript for Sirius Black.

Back in Haven Tower, Aurelius grinned, then hurried to Gringotts to get his emancipation papers figured out. He would need his voting block to make sure the trial went in the right direction, and there was no one he could consider to proxy even one of his seats, much less all of them. As soon as he and Sculdig got everything all figured out, and he'd said hi to Murdock, ignoring Mugwart's catcalling, he hurried back to Haven. He had more letters to post.

It had been a perfectly ordinary Sunday morning for Pandora Lovegood. That is, until the owl had flown through the window and into a bowl of pancake batter she'd been mixing with an annoyed screech. Pandora sighed. Just for one day, she'd hoped life in the Lovegood household could progress like life in any other. Sunday was the day they had all agreed to be totally, unrepentantly _normal_. Somehow, however, it never seemed to work out that way. Pandora pulled the disgruntled owl out of the mixing and gave it some bacon and water, relieving it of it's note as she did so. It had her name on it, in an unfarmiliar hand.

_Dear Ms. Lovegood,_

_You are in danger. I am a seer, and I have Seen your death, relating to spell creation. Please, for Merlin's sake ward your work space and double check your work with a colleague. I don't want to die, especially with a young daughter to take care of- Luna needs you! Not to mention it would kill your husband if you were to die. Please, _please _be extra careful!_

_\- A Friend_

Pandora had no idea what to think of this, but she decided to take the mysterious "Friend's" advice seriously, just in case. Little did she know it would save her life.

After those two vital letters had been written and posted, Aurelius went out and got subscriptions to the _Daily Prophet_, _The Oracle_, _The Quibbler_, and all the other Wizarding newspapers he could find, even including the _Witch Weekly_; the only one he didn't get was _Playwizard_, for obvious reasons.

After that, he entered Muggle London through the cauldron and bought subscriptions to all the muggle publications he could, too, just in case. After all, even a confusing muggle headline about multiple un-attributable deaths was better than the trite "absolutely nothing is wrong" the _Prophet _often indulged in. He needed to be able to track Death Eater attacks and other headlines, and he also absolutely wouldn't miss seeing the headlines about Sirius's trial. Not to mention that all the reporters, and a way to contact them, were listed. He would be all set when he decided to implement the part of his plans that involved the press.

In the next few weeks, Aurelius then began to do a little remodeling. Haven Tower was strong, but it would need to be able to withstand either a siege or a brute force attack, as Aurelius knew he would be a target in the war to come, and he was definitely planning to shelter any muggles or muggleborn refugees who might need it in the coming conflict, up to and including Hermione. He also planned on using the tower as a Command Center.

To that end, he went down to the dungeons and cleaned out all the old "equipment", although he kept the cells; they might be necessary if he had to hold prisoners, and one he fitted up as a padded apartment, in case he needed to host a werewolf during the full moon.

He turned the second, smaller ball room (why on earth would you need two ball rooms anyway) into an infirmary, and the main meeting room because a Command Center, complete with a map enchanted somewhat like the Mauraders' map, except with different passwords and encompassing all of magical Britain covering the wall, tables covered with books and neat sheets and rolls of notes, and a genuine muggle computer adapted with runes.

The Tower already had a potions lab, a library, and a dueling chamber, which Aurelius would have had to add otherwise, and the only other thing that Aurelius had to do was reinforce the wards and stock the stasis-charmed pantry. By the end, Aurelius was sure that his Tower could hold its own in a war.

Early March found Aurelius once again sitting in front of Sculdig's desk. "Can I start a foundation, like, to fund people who need it through Gringotts?"

"Most likely. What do you have in mind?"

"I want to start a foundation called the Lily Potter Foundation that will supply wolfbane free to any confirmed werewolf or the guardian of such, once a month, provided the werewolf is not a follower of Tom Riddle, AKA Voldemort," Aurelius replied. "And I want to tie it to my Mordrake account."

Sculdig gave the goblin equivalent of an admiring whistle. "I'm sure we can arrange that," he said finally. "What else?"

"What?"

"Knowing you, you're never just here for one thing."

Aurelius grinned sheepishly. "Well, actually, I do need your help. Simply put, my cousin Bellatrix is keeping one of Voldemort's soul anchors in her vault. Is there some way you can secure and destroy it?"

"It's against goblin law to possess one, even not your own, and there's a clause in the Treaty of 1812 against bringing one voluntarily into Gringotts for any reason except to destroy it, or to keep it in a Gringotts vault." Sculdig told him solemnly. "What is it?"

"The healing chalice of Helga Hufflepuff, ironically," Aurelius responded. "So you're within your rights to seize and destroy it?"

"Yes, an we'll take the cleansing fee out of her vault along with the fine. Also, under goblin law, once the cup is purified it is yours in perpetuity."

Aurelius grinned wickedly.

The last few months before Hogwarts were not quite so busy, as Dumbledore still hadn't discovered Harry Potter's absence, and although Amelia Bones had written back to say she was getting Sirius Black a trial, it wouldn't be until the Wizengamot met in October. Aurelius bonded three inherited house elves, managed to anonymously get Remus Lupin a job, and got a new wand for school use.

In May, as Aurelius was out hiking, (he'd taken to hiking, jogging, and martial arts instead of going to the gym) he was walking down a forest trail when he saw the most beautiful bird, perched on the rough branch of a sprawling oak tree. It was white, silver, and pale blue, with lavender tail feathers and a teal crest, and the wizard knew at once what it was. A glacial phœnix. As Aurelius stared at the bird in awe, it trilled and swooped downward, straight at him.

He ducked, startled, and put out a hand to protect his face, but the bird was aiming for his shoulder, not his head, and Aurelius felt a soothingly cool weight on his shoulder. Aurelius was so shocked he forgot to pull his hand away from his face. A wild phœnix. A wild glacial phœnix had just approached him of its own accord. And, judging by its happy singing, the silver glow surrounding them, and the sudden rush of foreign emotion in his mind: **Joy/bonded/safe/safe/Good wizard/safe wizard/happy**, he had just been chosen as a farmiliar. Why wasn't his life ever normal? _Ever_?

But the phœnix, Majestic, was soon as much a part of him as Sssasha, and her singing never failed to cheer him up. As a plus, her healing capabilities and "flashing" came extremely handy.

In June, Aurelius was suddenly hit with a rush of inspiration: what better way to clear Sirius's name than to have Pettigrew to testify! He had just made plans for sneaking into the Burrow, and was going over them with Sculdig when Murdock popped up behind them,

"What are you plotting now?" She asked with a smile.

"Trying to figure out how to sneak into a Wizarding house and apprehend an animagus masquerading as a pet rat," Aurelius responded distractedly.

"Just sent a house elf with a charmed butterfly net," Murdock told him with a straight face.

Aurelius stared at her, and then suddenly face palmed. "That could actually work!"

"I wouldn't suggest something that _wouldn't_," Murdock retorted.

"And that is why I love you." Aurelius mumbled. Apparently he didn't say it quietly enough; after all, goblins have hypersensitive hearing. Because Murdock kissed him on the cheek, and his brain short circuited.


	12. Chapter 11

Let's Do It Right This Time, Chapter 11: The Hogwarts Express

On August 31, Aurelius made his last preparations. His trunk was packed with school books, robes, sweets, prank supplies, and a wicked-looking dagger for self defense, Tippy had been given last-minute orders (feed Pettigrew and keep him contained until the trial, make sure Sssasha was in good health, pop to Hogwarts to warn Aurelius if anyone tried to break into Haven Tower, and make sure Majestic got her bowl of peeled grapes every morning; that phœnix was so insufferable) and all the wards on Haven Tower were in lockdown mode. Aurelius made a batch of handpies for the train and turned in early, almost shivering with excitement.

Aurelius woke up on September 1 rather too late. After quickly gulping a handpie, he decided to flash straight to Platform 9 & 3/4 rather than going to King's Cross, partly because he was almost late for the Express, and partly because the entrance appealed to his sense of the dramatic. It would also help with painting him as a Light wizard; if he was going to go into Slytherin (and he was hoping he was, if only to spite James Potter) he would need all the help he could get.

So Aurelius grabbed his trunk and secured Hedwig's cage to the crook of his elbow, trying his best to ignore Hedwig's affronted screech as her cage bumped against the trunk. Then he held out his other arm for Majestic to latch onto. A sudden, intense cold, a flurry of powdery snowflakes, and Aurelius was standing on the platform, surrounded by very startled Wizarding families. Aurelius grinned.

"Majestic, go ahead and wait for me at school," he told her, secretly relishing the shocked and envious looks- it was nice to be stared at for something that he actually _did_, instead of something that happened to him when he was 15 months old. Majestic trilled in response, a white eyelid flickering as she blinked.

"And be good," Aurelius continued. "No freezing Mrs. Norris, however much you want to."

Majestic flipped her tail at him as she flew away.

Aurelius turned around nonchalantly and started dragging his luggage and the ruffled Hedwig to the train. He was waylaid halfway there.

"That,"

"Dear firstie,"

"Was amazing!"

"So as a token of our esteem"

"Would you like help with your trunk?"

Fred and George. Aurelius smiled widely, glad to see both boys alive and well, even if he couldn't tell them apart anymore, as George had both ears. "Absolutely! Who are you?"

"Gred and Forge!" they said in unison, sporting matching grins as they helped Aurelius heave his trunk up onto the train and into a compartment near the back.

"We gotta go check on our little brother," said Fred? after they had gotten Aurelius situated. "He's a firstie too, you know."

"And then our friend,"

"Lee Jordan,"

"Was going to show us"

"His tarantula." They said, starting back up with the twin-speak.

"So we must say goodbye"

"For a little while."

"That is if you don't mind."

"Of course not!" Aurelius responded. "Go right ahead. See you at Hogwarts!"

"Yeah"

"You too!"

And then the twins ducked out of Aurelius's compartment, and the time traveler pulled out his used copy of _Mind and Meditation_ and tried to read it again, but it was so wordy that his head started to hurt and he didn't make any progress with the occlumency exercises, so he lost interest and stared out the open window, watching the Scottish countryside fly by.

After only about half an hour had passed, there was a knock at the compartment door. Aurelius opened it and, unbidden, his face creased into a giant smile.

"Um, is it ok if I sit here? All the other compartments are full and I don't really want to sit with my brothers..." Ron Weasley began nervously.

"Absolutely!" Aurelius knew that once he got into Slytherin, he probably couldn't keep up a friendship with the Weasley boy, but Ron had been the only friend who had stuck with him through it all in the last timeline (well, except for the whole goblet of fire fiasco) and Aurelius couldn't help but like the boy, hot-tempered and jealous though he might be at times. So to have the chance to share a compartment with him, unimpeded by house rivalries..."Absolutely." He said again. "So what's your name?'

"Um, Ron Weasley." Ron responded, heaving his trunk under a seat. "What's yours?"

Aurelius winced internally. This day could go either very well or very badly, and this would be one of the only few possible snags. His name, after all, was Dark with a capital D. Aurelius was starting to regret not picking Peverall. "Aurelius Gaunt, but please ignore my last name."

Ron blinked a few times, but at last nodded, and Aurelius let out an inaudible sigh of relief.

"You're a first-year too, right?" Ron asked, obviously fishing for something to say.

"Yeah, do you like Quiddich?"

"Do I like it? Heck yeah! What's your team?"

"Chudley Cannons." Aurelius had never actually followed another team; besides the ill-fated World Cup, he'd only ever _been_ to seven professional Quiddich games, three with Ron, one on his own, and three with Ron and Luna to support Ginny, back when she'd been allowed to fly. He hadn't had the stomach to go to many after Scrimgeour had roped him into service; the might-have-beens made him too bitter.

"Go Cannons!" Ron cheered up considerably, evidently thinking anyone who liked the Cannons couldn't be all bad. "Did you see the June game with Sarina Saltmarsh?"

"No, but I heard about it," replied Aurelius, slipping into the conversation with casual ease. If he closed his eyes, he could momentarily imagine himself in the Gryffindor Common Room by a roaring fire, drinking hot chocolate and arguing about Quiddich with Ron over an unfinished game of chess, while Hermione tried to make the two of them do their homework. Aurelius sighed. He hadn't thought Hermione capable of such treachery, and he sometimes wondered if she had been lonely, desperate for guidance, and had listened to Dumbledore because he had no one else. Maybe this time around he could help her to become independent.

Abruptly Aurelius realized Ron was waiting for him to go on, and added "Wasn't that the game where Sarina had to sub in last minute, and still ended up catching the snitch faster than Clearwater?"

"Yeah," Ron responded, grinning, and soon they were embroiled in a friendly argument, about whether Seekers or Keepers were more valuable to the game, Ron positing that a Seeker pretty much did nothing but get in the way of the other players and face off with the other Seeker, and that they had no sense of strategy, while Aurelius replied that the game wouldn't end until the snitch was caught, so a Seeker was _very _necessary, and that a good Seeker would only get in the way of the opposing team.

After a while, the witch with the snack cart rolled into view, and Aurelius bought a sampling of his favorite snacks, and the ones that he knew Ron liked, and shared them over Ron's protestations, simply telling him that he had been going to get snacks anyway, and that he would have felt bad not sharing. Then they ripped open chocolate frog packages in companionable silence, broken only by the occasional comments on their card collections:

"If you find an Agrippa, can I have her? I'll give you a Merlin."

"Sure! Hey, do you want a Druidess Clotilda? I have six of her."

"Sure. Oh, look, Ragnar Shaggy-Legs! I've been looking for that one!"

"Who?"

It was then that they were very rudely interrupted, as Draco appeared in the doorway, flanked by his trolls...ehem...friends.

"They're saying all over the train that you've bonded a phœnix. Just come and bring it down to our compartment, will you? You don't need to sit with blood traitors like Weasley."

"Heir Malfoy." Aurelius's voice was as glacial as Majestic's feathers. Draco wasn't all bad, as he'd found out in the future, but he _did _need to learn basic manners. "I would have thought you'd have been taught not to interrupt?"

Draco's eyes narrowed. "And I would have thought you'd have learned politics. Or are you a mudblood, slumming it with a Weasley like that? What's your blood status?"

Ron flushed violently. Aurelius tightened his lips, toying with his wand in its holster. He knew better than to hex another student on the train, but he badly wanted to. "Red." He said finally, cold as ice. "And perhaps you could leave, as we were having a conversation."

"I could have you expelled if I wanted to. You don't order me around."

"I did not make an order. I suggested. And I'll make another friendly suggestion, too: don't you ever mess with me again. Or perhaps Madame Bones would like to hear about your father's interesting tattoo?"

"Did you just threaten me?"

"No, I suggested." Aurelius said again. His lips curved upward. "You'd make a very good Gryff, you know," he added conversationally. "No subtlety at all. Now, please let us go back to what we were doing?" And before Draco could react, Aurelius snapped his fingers and all three Slytherins to be slid out the door and into the corridor between the compartments.

Ron was staring at him in something that almost approximated awe. "Now that was bloody brilliant!"

Aurelius smirked. "Great changes will be coming to the Snake Pit." It was about then that he realized the chocolate frog he'd been holding halfway to his lips had begun to melt in his hand, and he shoved it into his mouth whole, then cast a _scourgify_. "I'm kinda done with frogs." He said. "Do you want to do anything else?"

"Chess?" asked Ron hopefully. Aurelius couldn't resist those puppy-dog eyes. "Sure. Just one game."

In the end, they played three games, one of which Aurelius actually won, after a bitter struggle, although part of that was that Aurelius was simply eight years older and had had the benefit of having helped the Ron of the other timeline work out all the kinks in his playing style over the years. Then they played Exploding Snap for a bit, in between daring each other to eat Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. (Aurelius had to stop after he got a lawn clipping flavored one.)

Neville and Hermione still came by, asking if they'd seen Trevor, only this time, Aurelius drew his wand and _accioed _the startled amphibian, then handed it to Neville and invited both the newcomers to stay in their compartment. The longing on Hermione's face was palpable, but at last she muttered something about having left her trunk in another compartment and left, while Neville shyly joined them.

They talked a bit more, and included Neville in the next round of Snap, discussing the classes they were looking forward to and trading bits of Hogwarts lore, until finally the train screeched to a halt. Aurelius got up shakily, almost as nervous as the actual firsties. This was it then. Win or lose, there was absolutely no going back.


	13. Chapter 12

Let's Do It Right This Time, Chapter 12: The Sorting

AN: Bolded sections are from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone.

The trek to Hogwarts was exactly as Aurelius remembered it. The gaggle of firsties made their way down the slippery brick path to the soft lakeside sand of the little harbor, following Hagrid's husky "This way," and the flashing of his lantern.

At last they stood by the boats, and Hagrid herded them in ("No more 'n four to a boat), Lavender Brown squeaking as her feet sunk into a patch of lakeweed that wriggled and released bubbles of marsh gas to tickle her feet, and they slipped soundlessly into the water.

It was beautiful. The sky was jeweled with stars, and the lake like dark glass, interrupted only by the intersecting ripples forming around the prow of each boat. The other three in the boat, Hannah Abbot, Blaise Zabini, and Ron Weasley, chattered about the upcoming sorting, but Aurelius only leaned back against the side of the boat and sighed, listening to the lapping of the water against the boat. He rather missed the thestral carriages, but there was something undeniably peaceful about the slow, gentle rocking of the boat.

"What house are you hoping to get into?"

Aurelius opened his eyes with a start. It was Hannah Abbot.

"Me? Oh, I don't know. I'm too academically lazy for Ravenclaw, I'm not nice enough for Hufflepuff, I'm too ambitious for Gryffindor, and I do too many stupidly brave things for Slytherin." He sighed. "As I'm a Gaunt, the hat will probably stick me in either Slytherin or Ravenclaw."

"Well I want Gryffindor. My brothers would kill me if I wasn't." Ron declared. Hannah was quick to follow with "I'm fine with anything, although Slytherin wouldn't be a first choice." And Blaise added that Slytherin was the only real house.

They might have started something a bit more severe than an argument, when all at once Hogwarts loomed ahead through the mist, windows lit up and turrets magnificent in the moonlight, its reflection quivering on the lake surface as though on a shadowy mirror. Gasps rose from every throat, even Aurelius's, as it had been nine years since he'd last crossed the lake, and he'd been too emotional to really take in the view.

In less time than Aurelius anticipated, the bottoms of the boats were scraping on the rocks in the dungeon-level boathouse, and Hagrid, after checking that Neville still had his toad, led them to the great doors, and began pounding on them.

After a few minutes, Minerva Mcgonagall took over, leading the firsties to the waiting room off the Great Hall. At last, after they'd been left alone long enough for the ghosts to stream through them, gossiping and discussing Peeves' status (not that incorporeal shades could kick him out anyway) Mcgonagall returned and began to tell them about how "your house will be your family here at Hogwarts", and so on, then listed the various attributes of the houses. Aurelius didn't think he was imagining the slightly unpleasant look she got when explaining Slytherin, and he sighed. The one good thing about staying Harry Potter would have been that he'd have gotten preferential treatment in any house. Of course, in Slytherin, preferential meant being treated like an ordinary human.

After her explanation, she led them into the Great Hall, while Ron worried incessantly about the Sorting method, and Hermione feverishly listed all the spells she'd memorized out of her text books, in case the Sorting involved a test, and told anyone who would listen about Hogwarts, a History, and the ceiling in the Great Hall.

Mcgonagall motioned for silence, while two prefects brought out the Sorting Hat and laid it on the traditional stool. Then she stepped into the shadows, while everyone stared at the Hat with varying degrees of interest. And then the rip in the Sorting Hat's brim opened wide...

**"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty, **

**But don't judge on what you see,**

**I'll eat myself if you can find**

**A smarter hat than me.**

**You can keep your bowlers black,**

**Your top hats sleek and tall,**

**For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat**

**And I can cap them all.**

**There's nothing hidden in your head**

**The Sorting Hat can't see,**

**So try me on and I will tell you**

**Where you ought to be.**

**You might belong in Gryffindor,**

**Where dwell the brave at heart,**

**Their daring, nerve and chivalry,**

**Set Gryffindors apart;**

**You might belong in Hufflepuff**

**Where they are just and loyal,**

**Those patient Hufflepuffs are true,**

**And unafraid of toil;**

**Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,**

**If you've a ready mind,**

**Where those of wit and learning,**

**Will always find their kind;**

**Or perhaps in Slytherin,**

**You'll make your real friends,**

**Those cunning folk use any means,**

**To achieve their ends.**

**So put me on! Don't be afraid!**

**And don't get in a flap!**

**You're in safe hands (though I have none)**

**For I'm a Thinking Cap!"**

Everyone clapped obediently when it had finished, and then Mcgonagall announced the obvious: that they would each come and try on the hat when she called their name. And then the Sorting began.

**"'So we've just got to try on the hat!' Ron whispered to** Aurelius**.**** 'I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll"**

"Oh, you never know," replied Aurelius, who was thinking about Halloween in the previous timeline. "But honestly, if they set a troll on us at the Sorting ceremony and our parents found out, everyone would be going to Beauxbatons."

Ron just swallowed, apparently too consumed with nerves to reply.

The Sorting soon commenced, with Hannah Abbot being placed in Hufflepuff. Her friend Susan Bones quickly followed her, and most of the following Sortings (Terry Boot- Ravenclaw, Mandy Brocklehurst- Ravenclaw, Lavender Brown- Gryffindor, and so on, with Millicent Bulstrode being the first Slytherin) went as expected. Aurelius, however, was near panic as Seamus Finnegan was called up. Suppose the Sorting Hat outed him? Or refused to Sort him? Or stuck him in Gryffindor regardless? And then:

"Gaunt, Aurelius!" Mcgonagall announced.

Aurelius ran forward to put on the Hat, almost glad that he was small enough for it to cover his eyes again. The entire hall was staring and whispering, almost as much as if he were still Harry Potter. After all, there hadn't been a Gaunt at Hogwarts for three hundred years, either due to the fact that they were so inbred that they hadn't birthed a true witch or wizard in years, and because they had no family funds to send their children to Hogwarts anyway. And it was a well-kept secret that the family were all parcelmouthes. Of course, as it was a secret, all the old Wizarding families knew it.

_Hello_, the Sorting Hat began, _I seem to have Sorted you before, but strangely, I don't remember it. I- "_Oh bloody Merlin!" the hat burst out aloud, startling half the students and staff of their chairs. _A time traveler_, it continued wonderingly in Aurelius's brain. _And the things you've been through; it's no wonder that you decided to come back! So hmm, any preference on where to put you? _

_I get to pick? _Aurelius asked incredulously; he'd been expecting to have to argue.

_Somehow, I don't think Gryffindor would be the best choice a second time, _the Hat responded. _And you'd definitely not fit Ravenclaw. So I'd say Hufflepuff or Slytherin; it is, however, your prerogative as a time traveler to override me; you can thank Morgana L'fey for that._

_Slytherin please, _Aurelius responded. _It will help my plans, and it will really piss of my git of a dad._

_If you say so. I quite agree, although for different reasons. It has been sixty years since there was a parcelmouth in Slytherin, and there are very special parcelmouth wards against rape and abuse that were taken down by Lionel Gaunt a long time before that, and they need to be put up again. And you have healthy ambition and great cunning. The first true Slytherin since Tom Riddle! So _"Better be Slytherin!"

Quirrell looked thoughtful. Dumbledore looked worried. Snape looked sour (or was that just his face?) Ron refused to meet his eyes, evidently thinking Aurelius was lost for good. And the pureblood students were gossiping right in front of him as he say down, the hall filled with whispers. It was going to be a long night, and Aurelius couldn't wait for Harry Potter to be called, if only to draw attention away from his current self.

"Goyle, Gregory...Granger, Hermione...Greengrass, Daphne...Hopkins, Wayne..."

The hall was just _way _too loud, and all Aurelius wanted to do was eat and go to bed. The Sorting was interminable. Why couldn't they just call Potter now, and shake things up a bit?"

"Li, Su...Longbottom, Neville...MacDougal, Morag...MacMillen, Ernie...Malfoy, Draco...Moon, Lilian...Nott, Theodore...Parkinson, Pansy,"

Aurelius rested his chin on his forearm, clapping dutifly when each student was Sorted. Three more names to go...

"Padma and Parvati Patil; and Sally Anne Perkins!

And then, at long last, "Harry Potter!"

The look on Dumbledore's face when his pet Chosen One didn't appear was definitely worth the wait. In fact, it might just be a new patronus memory of his!


	14. Chapter 13

"Let's Do It Right This Time, Chapter 13: Tom Riddle

AN: Anything bolded is from _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_. Parcelmouth is in italics.

Dead silence.

""Potter, Harry?" Mcgonagall said again, more uncertainly. No firstie came forward, and the Hall was suddenly full of whispering. Aurelius plastered a curious frown over his smirk, and raised his occlumency shields to full strength, in case Dumbledore tried passive legillimancy. He hadn't quite managed shields for active legillimancy yet, but Dumbledore would be too subtle for that, and Snape wouldn't dare try anything in the Great Hall.

Dumbledore rose to his full height, staring out over the Hall, and flicked his wand, releasing a rain of purple firecrackers. "Attention!" The chattering students fell silent in an instant. "It would seem that Mr. Potter was delayed. He will doubtless be here tomorrow. For now, the Sorting will continue."

None of the students, or the staff for that matter, seemed to be satisfied, but after a few moments of tense silence, Mcgonagall began again, grey eyes shimmering with moisture. The remaining Sortings were an anticlimax after what had just occurred, and after "Zabini, Blaise" was Sorted into Slytherin, Dumbledore simply clapped to summon the food, without the whimsically random table blessing he had offered in the previous timeline.

To be fair, it _was _a great Sorting Feast. Aurelius found that he had missed the food more than he had expected, and he spent the first half of the meal simply eating, making the occasional noncommittal noise in response to the other Slytherins' questions: did he like the Hogwarts Express, was he looking forward to any classes in particular, did he like Quiddich. Then Daphne Greengrass made a comment he couldn't resist responding to, if only to rattle a few cages and establish himself in the political hierarchy.

"I didn't know the Gaunt line was still extant," she said carefully, obviously digging for more information.

Aurelius winced. "It isn't exactly. I'm not heir by blood, thank Merlin. It's probably a good thing, too, since they're so pure it's practically incest. No, I'm simply the last one left with a claim to the line, ever since Riddle went and got himself blown up."

"Who?" Daphne was trying to hide her curiosity, as were the rest of the Slytherin table. Some of the pureblood Ravenclaws were openly gawking. Dumbledore's head had jerked up at the name Riddle, and he was staring at the Slytherin table, his fork halfway to his mouth.

"Tom Riddle. Model student at Hogwarts, youngest Seeker on the team for centuries, Head boy, Quiddich captain, and winner of two awards for special services to the school. Oh, and captain of the chess club, while also managing to earn straight O's in every class, and getting higher grades in DADA than Merlin." There was an ironical tone to Aurelius's voice. "That was, of course, before his hobbies included pulling the wings off flies and the heads off muggleborns."

Several students, mostly Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, were looking decidedly ill.

"What do you mean 'got himself blown up'?" That was Draco. Typical.

"Tommy heard a prophecy he wasn't meant to hear, made some assumptions, and went off to kill the Potter boy just to make certain, as if a baby was a threat. Of course, in doing so he broke an honor vow, thus allowing the sacrifice of Lily Potter to mix with ambient magic to forfill her dying prayers. So he blew up. Didn't actually kill him, but that would be a setback for anyone," Aurelius finished, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice and enjoying the stunned silence. And, of course, the look on Quirrell's face. Conversation didn't pick up much after that.

It was almost a relief when Dumbledore tapped his wand against the rim of his goblet, making a chiming sound that resounded through the whispering hall. "Now that we are all fed and watered, I have a few announcements."

Aurelius wondered if he would still announce the 3rd floor corridor, and then noticed the headmaster's twinkling blue gaze fixed on Neville, who was sitting with Ron and Parvati at the Gryffindor table. Aurelius's lips tightened. If Dumbledore decided simply to use the other Chosen One in his pet prophecy...well, heads would roll. Dumbledore's head specifically. Neville, his parents in the incurable ward and his remaining family either strict or abusive, had no shred of confidence left (after all, it had taken seven years for him to override that conditioning and become the leader of the Hogwarts resistance) and at eleven, he was prime fodder for Dumbledore's machinations. And Aurelius would never let that happen to him.

"There is a list of forbidden Zonko's products affixed to Mr. Filch's office door, which you are welcome to peruse, and the Forbidden Forest is, as always, off limits. Some of our older students would do well to remember that as well." He twinkled at the twins.** "And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.''**

The Slytherins immediately began speculating as Dumbledore sat down, although none of them got anywhere near the truth. Aurelius did not bother to enlighten them, however; it was best not to show his full hand. He'd tipped it a bit too much, anyway, but that had been necessary to establish his status. If Daphne had asked that question and he'd fobbed her off with a simple answer, she would not have believed him, and lying about your name loses you all credibility in the Snake Pit. Besides, the fact that he could mess with both Dumbledore and Voldemort _at the same time _was simply too good to waste.

In only a few minutes after what passed for an announcement, the houses were being led away to their respective dorms by the prefects, the Gryffs and 'Claws to their ivory towers, and the 'Puffs and Slythers to their respective Sett and Nest. The Slytherins at last arrived at the bare stretch of wall that concealed the opening to their common room.

"Listen up," Gabrielle Nott, one of the Slytherin prefects, began. "To get into the Slytherin Common Room, you need a password. None of the other impure houses are allowed to know it, and if one of them gets it, I'll know, and I'll find out who told, too. Is that clear?"

"Crystal." Aurelius muttered. Most of the other Slytherin first years were nodding nervously, overawed by Hogwarts itself and intimidated by their new prefect, so unfortunately, Nott heard.

"What was that, Gaunt?"

"Nothing," Aurelius replied innocently, wondering if he had underestimated the dangers of the Snake Pit.

Nott's eye twitched. "Don't lie to me," he snarled. 'I heard that. And that'll be your first class: manners. You think you're all that, but you're not, and if you even think of overstepping your boundaries, we'll crush you. However, as this was a first offence, the only punishment will be to be locked out for the first night." Flicking his wand, Nott cast a _petrificatus totalus _on the firstie, whispered the password to the door, and led the rest of the now-frightened Slytherins into the common room.

It took only approximately two minutes to wandlessly undo the shoddy bind. Aurelius gracefully got to his feet, dusting himself off, and walked over to the door.

"Pureblood," he tried. Nothing happened. "Snake pit. Anaconda. Viper. Cobra. Karait. Salazar. Purity." Still nothing. Aurelius wished he knew who got to pick the passwords; then he'd have a better chance at guessing. "Die Mudblood," he tried, ludicrously. Still nothing. And then something else, something ingenious, occurred to him. "_Open to me_," he hissed, picturing Sssasha stretched out in the sun. "_Open to me in the name of Salazar, open in the name of his heir_." And on the last word, he flashed his rings.

An opening appeared in the blank stretch of wall. Aurelius smirked. Then he stepped through, oblivious to the dark figure behind him, who stood watching in astonishment.


	15. Chapter 14

Let's Do It Right This Time, Chapter 14: Power Play

Aurelius Gaunt stalked into the common room, grey eyes gleaming with anger, his rings still glinting on his slender fingers. Without a word, he started going towards the first-year dorms. He was waylaid halfway there.

"Who let him in?" asked Gabrielle Nott, twirling his wand idly like a baton. The rest of the firsties watched in fear and admiration as several of the prefect's thugs surrounded the thin young halfblood.

"That would be me."

Heads whipped around, some of the Slytherins jumping as they noticed the dour Head of House standing in the shadows. Aurelius didn't remember seeing him come in.

"But-" Gabrielle began as Aurelius studied Snape confusedly.

"But nothing. The first rule of Slytherin is that all fights and disagreements must be settled _inside _the common room. We are the most hated house, and because of it we must always be outwardly united. Besides, simply because you are a prefect does not mean you may abuse your power. Talking back does not warrant a "punishment" of that sort. I may reconsider the awarding of your prefect badge if there are more incidents of this sort. And Gaunt," he added, turning his attention to the firstie, "You would be wise not to antagonize the upper years."

"Yes sir," Aurelius replied, finding his voice. "I'd just had a long day; sorry Nott."

"Apology accepted," Nott returned, very grudgingly. Aurelius chose to ignore his tone, especially as Snape had turned to address the house as a whole.

"Welcome, and welcome back to Hogwarts and to Slytherin," Snape began, his voice taking on the almost majestic quality he always used when addressing his students. A circle of glittering eyes gave him their attention under the cold green light of the Snake Pit, mesmerized. "This is the house of cunning, the house of ambition. I will warn you now that we are not well liked. We have accrued a reputation for being Dark, for being cutthroat. Other teachers will deny you points for excellence and good conduct, and take points for altercations that are not your fault.

"Thus the first rule of Slytherin, as has been demonstrated, is unity. We are disliked and passed over, and thus, we must always pretend that we are united, at all times outside of our own chambers, regardless of actual feelings. You would do well to remember this.

"The second rule of Slytherin is excellence. We will never be applauded for ordinary feats, so we must strive to be the best, to be the greatest, to be the most accomplished. We must keep are actions above the table whenever possible, as any foul play on our part is always punished more harshly, but in the end we must stay alive, must win whenever possible, _however _possible.

"This, then, is your house. Your years at Hogwarts will not be easy, but easy is not what matters. What matters is the name, good or bad, that you forge for yourself, what matters is how well you survive. If you survive all seven years, you have already won."

Several of the other firsties squeaked at the implications. Aurelius was too busy contemplating Snape's behavior. The man had covered for him. But why?

"A few quick announcements before you go to bed for the night. There will be chess club on Tuesday evenings, and the interhouse gobstones tournament is November 10th; gobstones club will be meeting every other Friday from October 4th to prepare for that. Quiddich practices and tryouts have not been finalized; for more information about that talk to Marcus Flint. All muggleborns and muggleraised are required to attend Wizarding etiquette tutoring in first year; that will be led by Peregrine Derrick.

"For students new to Hogwarts, orientation maps are on the table by the cork board; also any later announcements or clubs that are not urgent will be posted on said board. Hogsmeade weekends are for third years and up; the first weekend will be on September 21, and permission slips must be turned in no later than September 19th. Lastly, while I do not often take points from my own house, any rulebreaking will be punished by long and unpleasant detentions." Snape smiled very lightly; Aurelius was personally surprised that he _could_. "Fifth and Seventh years, you will be required at my office for councilling; you should already have your schedule. First years, you will be taken to Madame Pomphrey for a check up on the first weekend here, so don't forget that. And all of you should know that my office will always be open to you. Any questions?"

Some questions must have been asked, but whatever they were, Aurelius didn't hear them. He was still trying to figure out Snape's behavior. What was Snape's motivation for keeping his secret? He must have seen everything.

Aurelius went to bed that night still dressed, and still lost in thought.

AGRWAGRWAGRWAG

As he had become accustomed to, Aurelius rose early, showered, and went down to the common room to study, pointedly ignoring Nott, who was also in the common room with several of his thugs, as if just waiting for a chance to jump him. Aurelius made sure to have his wand close at hand, but nothing actually happened, and soon Aurelius was making his way down to breakfast, following Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini so as not to seem overly familiar with the castle.

Breakfast itself was a simple affair, marked only by small talk and the schedules being passed out, and Aurelius was starting to enjoy the peacefulness of it all. That is, until the mail arrived.

Aurelius had been in the middle of a piece of bacon when owls started to rain down, dropping letters and packages and rolls of parchment, screeching as they went. And suddenly, amid the general avian chaos, there were gasps from all of the nearby Slytherins, and Aurelius looked up to see several sealed letters fall the bowl of cut grapefruit he'd been about to dig into.

"Oh, hey Majestic," he said distractedly, still focused on his schedule. Majestic bit his ear. "Hey! Alright alright!" he said to general astonishment; after all, phœnixes are almost as snooty as hippogriffs, and a phœnix will only tolerate such behavior from his or her bonded. Aurelius grabbed a grape from a nearby bowl and peeled it with one tap of his wand, then tossed it to her. She caught it and trilled disapprovingly. "If you want more peeled grapes, talk to Tippy." Aurelius told her. "I need to finish my own breakfast."

Majestic let him pet her and feed her a few more grapes before pulling away and launching into the air with a burst of song, vanishing in a flurry of fat flakes before she got halfway across the hall. Aurelius packed his schedule in his bag and got up, ignoring the glances shot his way from every table, and was about to leave the Hall when he heard a voice behind him.

"My boy, I need to see you in my office for a few minutes."

It was Dumbledore. Great.


	16. Chapter 15

Let's Do It Right This Time, Chapter 15: Dumbledore

Aurelius sighed internally and trailed after the headmaster, actually relieved when Snape sourly got up to follow them, as at least he knew how to handle his head of house. Besides, with Snape there he'd be less likely to lose his temper and say something he shouldn't, or perhaps hex Dumbledore into oblivion. Even if Snape wasn't trying to run interference, just his presence and his temperament should help.

Together they climbed the twisting staircase to the headmaster's office, Aurelius noting in annoyance that Dumbledore didn't even bother to use one of his inane candy-themed passwords, just told the gargoyle to move aside. Aurelius had always known that the password was not necessary (Dumbledore _had _to have other, real defenses;therwise anyone could just start listing candies at the gargoyle.) but it was annoying for him to be so blatant about it.

Come to think of it, why were defences necessary? Shouldn't the headmaster's door be open to anyone who needed him, not just by invitation? But this was no time to ponder Dumbledore's inanities.

"Do sit down. Lemon drop?'

"No," said Snape and Aurelius at the same time. Aurelius had to suppress a giggle, as this was probably the first time he and Snape had ever agreed on anything.

The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes dimmed momentarily, and Aurelius remembered that Lily had said Dumbledore always laced his lemon drops with loyalty potion; Aurelius wondered fleetingly if that was why Snape always refused the sweets, and then decided he didn't care. Besides, Dumbledore was talking, and Aurelius was frankly curious as to what the man wanted.

"I must say that it is most marvellous to have a Gaunt at Hogwarts again," Dumbledore was saying. "How have you been fitting in?"

"Oh, it's great, sir," Aurelius told him, deciding that he would not mention the incident with Gabrielle Nott, as he couldn't really expect help from this quarter anyway. Surely Dumbledore hadn't called him in here just to inquire after his health?

"That is good, my boy."

Aurelius could scarcely refrain from telling him that he was not Dumbledore's _boy _in any sense of the word, and if he said that one more time he could stick his comments in an undisclosed location that did not receive much sunlight; instead he merely smiled and focused on shoring up his occlumency shields.

"Now Severus," Dumbledore said, turning to Professor Snape, "Surely you have more important things to be doing, such as brewing for Madame Pomphrey? Your presence is not required."

Alarm bells started going off in Aurelius's brain. "Um, can he stay?" Both professors turned to look at him. "I mean, it's not going to take _that _long, is it? I just...I mean..."

"I will stay. If you don't mind, Headmaster?" Severus's tone held just a hint of 'actually I don't care if you mind', but then, he was like that with everyone, just not as subtlely as he was with the headmaster. Cornered, as there was no reasonable objection he could make, Dumbledore acquiesced with carefully masked bad humor.

"So what was it you wanted me here for, professor?" Aurelius asked at last, when it looked like Dumbledore wasn't going to say anything.

"It is the matter of your phœnix." Dumbledore returned finally. "I am afraid that exotic pets are not allowed."

Oh. Aurelius seriously should have seen that coming. Of course Dumbledore would want to be the only one with a pet phœnix; he wouldn't look so good now that he wasn't the only one, and the 'Leader of the Light' would never submit to that peaceably. Besides, he speculated, Dumbledore couldn't paint all Slytherins as evil now that one of them was walking around with a rare, magical, Light-oriented bird. Damn, this would complicate things.

"Why not?" Aurelius had some understanding of the Hogwarts charter; in fact, he'd memorized it, even down to the obscure and obsolete bits that he'd dug up expressly to annoy Dumbledore. "It never says that you can only have an owl cat or toad anywhere except the letters; doesn't it actually say in the Hogwarts charter section 9.4 1-13 that all pets are allowed unless and until they harm a student or member of the staff? Doesn't Lee Jordan have a pet rosy tarantula? Didn't Percy Weasley have a rat for years?"

"It isn't so simple. A phœnix is not physically harmful, but it is very disruptive. Besides, a tarantula or a rat is one thing; this is a large magical animal, and caring for her will absorb time you need for your classes."

"Huh. Didn't the Governers allow Abraxus Malfoy a magical snow leopard? And since when have extracurricular activities, even caring for a magical animal, taken up all one's time if they're determined to excel?"

"That is not relevant-" Dumbledore began. Aurelius cut him off.

"It is, actually. Besides, doesn't the charter mention that on no account should a familiar be refused entrance to Hogwarts, so long as it can be controlled? Majestic is bonded to me. Besides, since she's a phœnix, I can't exactly keep her away if she wants to come to Hogwarts."

"The boy is right on several counts." Snape spoke up at this point. Aurelius jumped, having not remembered he was there. Snape could melt into a shadow and disappear like darkness itself! "You have no grounds to keep his phœnix from staying at Hogwarts. Besides, being bonded with a phœnix yourself, surely you understand how sacred their connection is."

Was it Aurelius's imagination, or did Dumbledore flinch?

"...administrative details shouldn't get in the way," Snape was saying.

Aurelius was amused to see Dumbledore's eye begin to twitch. "Of course." He said at last. I was merely worried that the Death Eater children in his house would cause trouble because he was bonded with a phœnix, and wanted to make it safer for him."

_Sure you are, _Aurelius thought cynically, although he said nothing but "I'll just have to deal with that when it comes. They already know, anyway," and "Sorry headmaster." He rather wished it was Dumbledore who was apologizing to _him_.

"Very well then," conceeded Dumbledore unhappily. "That will be all."

Aurelius smiled. "Thank you, headmaster," he said out loud. Internally, his thoughts were very different. _Oh no, Headmaster, _he thought angerly. _This is not over. Not by far._


	17. Chapter 16

Let's Do It Right This Time, Chapter 16: Starting Classes

The rest of the day was somewhat soured by the meeting with the headmaster. Aurelius's first class, Transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs, was rather frustrating.

After Mcgonagall had done her traditional feline greeting, startling most of the students half to death when she transformed, she gave a short speech where she outlined the first-year schedule (and transfigured her desk into a pig and back). Then she set them all to turning matches into needles. Aurelius, of course, got the spell first, receiving three points. It wasn't until Hermione got five for the same thing that Aurelius realized that even Mcgonagall could be unfair.

Fresh from this injustice, the first-year Slytherins had DADA, and by lunch time, Aurelius was quite ready to scream. Quirrell stuttered and stammered through a very long (and thoroughly boring, at least for Aurelius) course outline, and then he had them read the first chapter of the textbook aloud, having all of them take turns. That, in itself, Aurelius could have tolerated, if not for the fact that Quirrell spent the entire time he was not lecturing trying to break into his mind.

After class, Aurelius ran down to the Slytherin dorms to get a headache potion from his trunk, then belatedly realized he _still _didn't know the password, and called Majestic, flashing into the dorm proper. Then he spent half an hour rummaging in his trunk, until he remembered that he hadn't actually stocked up on headache draught. It was an incredibly irritated Gaunt who went down late to lunch, his head still pounding, and his mood didn't much improve from there, as they had History of Magic in the afternoon.

Aurelius actually wondered if Dumbledore kept that class as boring and narrowly-focused as he could so that Wizarding children would not be able to predict his moves or recognize him as what he was. Or perhaps he just didn't want to pay a History teacher? Heaven knows Binns didn't even know if there was anyone in his class, much less whether or not he got paid. Not that he could do anything with any salary he might get. Honestly, even the Bloody Baron would be a better history teacher!

That evening, during study hall, Aurelius began writing down a list of notes on a bit of spare parchment, having to do with a possible history club. He wouldn't have to make it as cloak and dagger as the DA (which, by the way, he was _not _calling Dumbledore's Army this time around) but it would still be secret. After all, if the Ravenclaws could get away with selling complete sets of color-coded History notes so detailed they would make Hermione jealous, for all seven years, someone would have to stage an intervention. Besides, Aurelius could definitely use such a history club to teach wizards to think for themselves, and muggleborns to respect tradition. As long as Dumbledore didn't interfere...

At dinner, Aurelius began sounding out the other firsties discretely, and before long had gotten several positive responses. Aurelius's momentary smirk would have sent shivers down Dumbledore's spine, had the old man been watching. In his own way, Aurelius was recruiting not servants but comrades, and even this simple action was to lay the foundation for many things to come. Aurelius Gaunt would be remembered forever.

The next morning Aurelius again woke early. As it was a Saturday, he at once left the Slytherin dorms for a run, first going and making one of the more helpful-looking second years tell him the password, just in case. After he was adequately warmed up, he showered and left the Common Room, allegedly for breakfast.

As soon as he was out of sight of the Great Hall, however, he took a detour and climbed up many flights of constantly shifting stairs to the Rooms of Requirement, glad to see them untouched by the fiendfyre that had scorched the Room of Hidden Things to its foundations, and searched until at last he found the diadem of Ravenclaw, which he packed in acromantula silk and placed in a warded box, summoning Tippy to take it to the goblins.

He was halfway back to the door when he suddenly realized what a treasure trove he had in this old room of contraband, and he set to work casting '_reparo_' at anything he thought might be useful, sending his house elves to Haven with load after load of the stuff. He found fanged frisbees, biting tea cups, a patchy demiguise invisibility cloak (definitely more shoddily made and charmed than his, but it would definitely clean up well enough to get by with) a working ! time turner, some jewels and rare potions ingredients, a broom that actually flew rather well (although it had nothing on his Nimbus) and various charmed contraptions that he knew both Arthur Weasley and the twins would love to fiddle with. He even found a few of the founders' journals!

He also found the Vanishing Cabinet. One fury-filled _incendio_, and the cabinet was a nice little pile of charcoal; he couldn't risk anyone using it to infiltrate Hogwarts, even if he would have liked to buy the other one at Borgin and Burke's and keep them to use. After all, he didn't actually need a Vanishing Cabinet. He had Majestic.

Aurelius was late for lunch that day, but he didn't care in the slightest. He ate quickly and then went to the library for a little study, then returned to the common room to fraternise with his housemates; it would not be well to be unaccounted for the entire day. Evening saw him back in the RoR, and by Monday (with a great deal of help from the house elves, both Hogwarts and personal) the entire place was cleaned out. Aurelius was entirely back into his usual cheerful mood by Monday, ready to start the rest of his classes. Well, relatively cheerful. The _Daily Prophet _had come out with a special edition about the missing Boy-Who-Lived, and it really got on his nerves to hear himself discussed every time he turned around. But then, that was what the RoR was for.

The rest of his classes were a mix of fun and horrible.

Herbology was much more fun than he remembered, especially considering that he'd forgotten most of the first-year material, as he'd never actually cared for that class and consequently hadn't paid much attention before, and he made a point to partner with Neville after Sprout had given them the introductory lecture and tour, and despite the boy's nervousness at having to partner with a Slytherin, it went quite well.

Charms was good, particularly as Flitwick was scrupulously fair and his demonstrations even if first-year charms were fun and entertaining. Besides, while the diminutive teacher didn't have Snape's death glare or Mcgonagall's severity, he certainly could (and did) hex disobedient or rowdy students into silence.

Astronomy was not memorable, except that Professor Sinistra was prejudiced against Slytherin nearly as much as Snape was against Gryffindor, although she wasn't so obvious about it. She actually took ten points from Slytherin when Aurelius cast a _protego _to block a stinging hex from Seamus, turning a blind eye to the Gryffindor's actions. Aurelius added a point to his perpetual list of foibles with the headmaster. He'd never actually noticed the blatant prejudice of the Hogwarts teachers against Slytherin, as he had had not been a Slytherin, and he was getting more and more sympathy for Snape, at least regarding his unfair point deductions. The Potions Master had evidently only been trying to make up for the constant unfairness towards his own house. Not that Aurelius wished that he wouldn't stop.

Flying was where the first truly interesting happening occurred. Neville still fell off his broom and broke his wrist. Draco was still a git. But this time when Aurelius had caught the milky little ball that was the rememberall, he only got a hundred points from Slytherin, not a place on the team. Although with the glint in Flint's eye made him hope that he would at least be allowed to try out for seeker. Aurelius was truly a master in the air.

The other Slytherins, needless to say, were rather angry with Aurelius for the point loss. So, fortunately for Aurelius's plans, (although the Slytherins couldn't know that) when Aurelius arrived in Double Potions, none of the Slytherins would let him sit with them. He glanced over at the Gryffindor side. He was _not _sitting with a girl, as his nineteen year old mind was thinking rather inappropriate things. Ron was giving him a poisonous glare- oh, how he wanted to be accepted by the hot-headed Gryffindor. Then, however, he had a sudden burst of inspiration.

He could help Neville keep from blowing up his cauldron.


	18. Chapter 17

Let's Do It Right This Time, Chapter 17: Asphodel and Wormwood

AN. Bolded words are from _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_; I do not own any of it.

Aurelius paused in the doorway of the Potions classroom, taking the opportunity afforded by adjusting the strap of his bag to take a good look around. It felt like years since he'd had to worry about seating chart intrigues, as his first few classes had all been with the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, except for Herbology, which was hands on and not really suited to such formalities as seating charts. He frowned. The Slytherins were still angry at him for disobeying Madame Hooch and looseing points for Slytherin, and those who saw him looking at them sent him nasty glances, glances that promised comeuppance if he so much as thought about sitting next to them. So much for "keep arguments in house"!

The Gryffs didn't look too happy about partnering with him either; Ron looked like he would rather share a station with a blast-ended skrewt, and Lavender looked scared to death at the idea of sitting next to a "slimy snake". The only other option on the Gryffindor side was Neville. Hmm. Neville was the worst possible partner in potions, but while Aurelius was not a potion master, he was good enough to fix any mistakes the Neville might make flawlessly, without making the boy feel bad. Besides, he'd already partnered with the Gryffindor once before, in Herbology. Neville at least knew he wouldn't try to sabatogue him.

Snape was going to get here any minute now; Aurelius had to make his choice. And so he did. "Um, can I sit with you?"

Total silence fell. It was one thing for a Slytherin to partner with a Gryffindor because a teacher decides the pairings, or because there's no one else to pair with, but for a Gryffindor to _voluntarily _ask to sit with a Slytherin...obviously he was more a pariah in his house than was first evident. If it had just been Herbology, well, even the Slytherins admitted Neville was top of the class. But _Potions_?

"Y-yeah," Neville said at last, hesitantly, perhaps knowing what it's like to be left out. Both houses watched Aurelius pull his cauldron and scales out of his bag and set them up, then lay his book and quill beside them and rummage around for spare parchment, all of them staring as though it were some odd mating ritual or such. After a bit, Ron and Seamus started humming a funereal march, while the Lavender muttered "Good luck" to Neville and Hermione frantically revised notes that she technically didn't even need to be taken. The Slytherins simply giggled and talked and passed notes at their leasure, knowing Snape would always be indulgent. And through it all, Aurelius simply watched. He hadn't had a chance to confirm his theory yet was because this was his first class, but if he had to hazard a guess, Snape would either rip into Neville because he was the Chosen One _in absentia_, or he would leave him alone because he was sitting with a Slytherin. Aurelius was honestly genuinely curious which one he would take.

At that moment, Snape swept into the classroom, robes billowing behind him. For a moment he surveyed the classroom, black eyes glittering with what could be attributed to malice. Or to bitterness.

In total silence, Snape glided to his place behind his desk, his dark glare instantly silencing the chattering Gryffindors. **""You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word—like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort.** Aurelius actually had to keep himself from grinning like a goof as he listened; this was one thing that had stayed the same despite all his changes. "As** there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."**

Neville was staring at the professor nervously, like a rabbit watching a cobra dance, while Hermione scribbled furiously as though to prove she was not a dunderhead. Most of the Slytherins were smirking smugly.

Snape, having finished his spiel, glanced around the room, and Aurelius winced internally. Snape was as much a master of invective as a master of potions, and with the hunt for Harry Potter still going on, he likely wanted to vent frustration. That, of course, would have the added benefit of putting his first years in their place.

Aurelius was admittedly relieved when Snape glanced past his table, only throwing Neville a hooded but curious look. Aurelius guessed that Snape knew he, Aurelius, was an unknown variable, and that the thought of taunting the alternate Chosen One was less appealing because the boy was petrified and wouldn't be amusing to target.

"Mr. Weasley," Snape snapped abruptly. "Where might a bezoir be found?"

Interesting. Aurelius straightened, then dog-eared the page he'd been taking notes on and got a new piece of parchment for his observations, carefully scribbling bullet points in parcelscript so Neville, or any random Slytherin who stole his notes for that matter, couldn't read it. So with Harry absent, Ron was Snape's next target to rile up. What was more interesting was that the question _was _actually in the textbook, unlike the first question Snape had asked Harry in the last timeline- something about The Drought of Living Death?

And then Aurelius abruptly froze, mouth falling open. Asphodel and wormwood. Asphodel and wormwood were the two main components in the Drought of Living Death, but they also had significance unrelated to potions. Hadn't Lavender gone on and on about Victorian flower language? Asphodels are a type of Lily. So...it sounded impossible, but then, it was a very Slytherin thing to do. Harry scribbled a bit more, crossing out alternate meanings when he remembered another, just to make sure. It was irrevocable. _I bitterly regret Lily's death, _He scrawled in English on the scrap of parchment. Holy Merlin, had he actually been giving him a coded message, about Lily, of all things? Or was this just some waggish god playing a nasty joke?

"Obviously you didn't think to read your textbook then," Snape was saying as Aurelius abruptly refocused, trying not to think about the strange mystery. After all, the other timeline's Snape was dead, and he'd never actually be able to ask him if he meant anything by it. "Mr. Longbottom, what is the difference between aconite and wolfbane?" Snape asked, moving on. Neville simply stared at him, his hands shaking ever so slightly, and Aurelius hurriedly cast a wandless calming charm on the Gryffindor, hoping Neville knew it from Herbology. Obviously he wouldn't cheat, but if it was just a matter of getting Neville relaxed enough to answer...

"Th-they're the same, right? Also called monkshood or Tyr's helm?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

"T-telling you, sir."

Snape gave the merest suggestion of an approving nod and moved on. "Miss Brown, why must sweetener never be added to a Chastity Solution?"

Seconds stretched by. Hermione waved her hand in the air from the back row.

"Well?"

"I d-don't know, sir."

"Perhaps you should have been reading your text instead of chattering with Miss Patil then, hmm? Let's try again: what is the main ingredient in a Duplicating Draught?"

"I don't know sir."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "What is mandrake most often used in?"

"I don't know sir. I think Hermione knows, though-"

"I wasn't _asking _Miss Granger. For future reference, sweetener counteracts the main ingredient in a Chastity Solution, which is bloodroot, the main ingredient in a Duplicating Draught is spider eggs," (Ron shuddered) "and mandrake is most often used in restorative potions. _Well? _Why isn't anyone writing this down?"

There was a hurried rummaging through bags and crinkling of parchment, mixed with a muffled curse as Seamus's sleeve knocked a bottle of ink over onto his potion book. Snape took five points for wasting materials and waved his wand to put a simple boil curing salve on the board. And, unnoticed, Aurelius''s observation sheet slipped off his desk to rest under it.

Aurelius leaned closer to Neville as they both copied down the recipe. "Do you want to get the ingredients, or should I?"

Neville blinked owlishly back at him, still a little under the influence of the calming charm. "Uh, sure, I'll get them."

Aurelius managed an inaudible sigh of relief. It was likely that he would need to coach Neville a little, but he didn't want to seem patronizing. Fortunately Neville seemed willing to go along with it.

Neville returned shortly with their ingredients, and soon they were chopping and slicing and mincing away, Aurelius occasionally stopping to correct Neville's technique or give him a pointer or two, telling him it was just like cooking. And all the while a dark figure watched curiously, approving.

And then they were brewing. It was decided within the first ten minutes that they were going to take turns reading aloud and tending to the potion, which thankfully allowed Aurelius to correct any mistakes Neville might have made, and since Neville was still serenely calm, he didn't make many. As a result, they were quickly the farthest along in the class (not least because Aurelius _might _have used a NEWT-level shortcut. That is, they were the farthest along until Draco interfered.

Aurelius had gone to the supply cabinet to get a vial of dragon's blood, and as a result, he returned to their station only just in time to see a slippery _something _land in their mutual cauldron, splattering a nervous Neville. Aurelius acted instantly.

"Down!" He snapped, yanking Neville to the floor as hot liquid splattered everywhere. It did not seem to have adverse effects, but that didn't mean Aurelius wanted it all over himself and his partner. Snape swept over to clean up, but Aurelius was already there, cleaning it up with a few potion safe cleaning charms. Then he glanced around the room. He didn't even need legillimancy. Draco Malfoy was telegraphing his involvement with a smug smile, a glint in the eye. He probably thought it would teach both the mutinying Slytherin and the blood traitor squib a lesson. Aurelius seethed.

"Heir Malfoy," he snapped at length, "kindly refrain from dropping anymore crocodile hearts into other people's cauldrons. All it does is blow up Professor Snape's classroom."

Draco's mouth opened and shut in a manner reminiscent of a mud puppy. Snape angerly deducted a total of ten points from Slytherin, making the Gryffindor section gasp, and gave Draco a stern and angry look that promised worse punishments in private. Then he gave Aurelius twenty points for his quick action, and Neville five for helping, which seemed to break a good number of the Slytherins' worldviews. He might have done more, but at that moment the bell rang, and the students, all except for Draco, were free to pack up and go. Aurelius nearly missed Snape's speculative glance as he packed and left for dinner; he was eavesdropping on the Gryffindor firsties.

"Bad luck, Neville, sorry you had to sit with the Slythers'," Ron was saying.

"It wasn't that bad..." Aurelius felt rather sorry for Neville, having to defend him.

"Oh c'mon now, that Gaunt boy is evil."

Dean joined the conversation: "How do you know?"

"They all are, Gaunts, I mean. It's a really Dark family. Plus, I mean, he's a _Slytherin_!"

Aurelius sighed internally at Ron's prejudice. He'd forgotten about that. Damn. This would make everything just a little bit harder.

"I'm not saying Gaunt's an angel, but he's better than Malfoy," Seamus put in his two cents. "Not sure I trust him, though."

"A horned slug is better than Malfoy," was Ron's only comment. Nevertheless, warmth blossomed in the listening Slytherin's chest, a warmth he had not felt in a long time. It was a start. Now, if only he could get Ron not to hate him...

Meanwhile, back in the classroom, Professor Snape had finished reprimanding Draco. As the dour teacher was leaving, he suddenly caught sight of a piece of parchment half hidden under Mr. Gaunt's desk. A piece of parchment covered with wavy scratches of ink, all except for five English words: _I bitterly regret Lily's death._


	19. Chapter 18

Let's Do It Right This Time, Chapter 18: The Unexpected Ally

AN: I've never actually written a scene like this, so advice would be greatly appreciated. Please don't flame me! Also, I have here assumed that Bill Weasley claimed the Wizengamot seat for the Prewetts; I know it isn't canon, but please bear with me. And please, if you have any feedback, I _really _love reviews.

September became October, and as the first Wizengamot session drew near, Aurelius grew more and more nervous. This would be, in his mind, the ultimate test of his abilities; Voldemort he dealt with every year before breakfast, but one slip up before a fickle and prejudiced council, and he'd have to resort to illegal activities to free his godfather. And Dumbledore would be opposing him the whole way.

At last, the day arrived. Aurelius managed to get tacit permission from Professor Snape to leave the grounds, although he did not tell the man exactly where he was going. Not that the man asked. Snape seemed to be tiptoeing around him these days, and Aurelius had had to resist more than one legillimancy attack. He would have been much more angry had he not noticed the man's trembling hands, and the faint lingering scent of firewhiskey that had remained on the professor's robes the morning after his notes had gone missing; the blunt statement must have been a serious blow.

Aurelius adjusted his stiff new maroon Wizengamot robes, then straightened his itchy collar one more time- just to be sure- and apparated long-distance to Bath, where the Wizengamot normally convened. After a number of run-ins with various receptionists and security wizards ("Are you lost, sweetheart?") he finally got his wand weighed and tagged, and was allowed to log his entrance and sign the necessary paperwork to claim his seats.

Then, heart pounding with nerves- it was more nerve-wracking even than when he walked to his death in the last timeline- he took a seat near the back and waited for the Head Warlock to arrive and begin.

At last, Dumbledore arrived, wearing his Chief Warlock robes and badges with house affiliation: two personal votes and three proxy ones. He settled himself in the traditional spot, took a sip of water, and then rose to address the council. "Let this meeting on the 19th of October, 1991 come to order!"

Instant silence. There was no question of Dumbledore's authority.

"The house would like to recognise Fleamont Pronghorn as new head of the Ancient and Noble house Potter and Leah Valencia as new head of the Ancient and Noble house Valencia," Dumbledore began, listing the new members of the Wizengamot. "The house also wishes to acknowledge Lucius Malfoy as Regent Black, due to Arcturus Black III's illness. Lastly, we wish to welcome Lady Mirabelle VanAllen head of the Ancient and Noble houses D'Morte and Sundance, Lord Ismet Hajjar, head of the Most Ancient and Most Noble house Almasi, and Lady Sapphira Kikelomo, head of Ancient and Noble houses Ihejirika, Leah, Abiodun, and Hinterland, newly regaining magic." A pause. "Now, before we begin-" Dumbledore broke off as one of the receptionists came forward with a stack of papers. "Yes, my dear?"

She wordlessly handed him the stack, which he read over. His eyes widened, and he muttered something under his breath which was probably not complementary. Then he straightened. "Ahem. We also wish to welcome Lord Aurelius Gaunt as head of Ancient and Noble houses Slytherin, Gryffindor, and Mordrake, and head of the Most Ancient and Most Noble Houses Gaunt, Peverall, and Merlin."

Aurelius stood to be recognized. Almost instantly the room was full of murmers, as the rest of the council criticized his age and his claim to the seats. Dumbledore had to set off a purple firecracker of magic to silence everyone.

"Now, before we begin our main business, does anyone have any new business to be brought before the Wizengamot?"

Several wands were raised and lit- Merlin forbid that the lords of the Wizengamot would raise their hands like common muggles!

"Lord Malfoy?" Dumbledore began.

"I propose Dolores Umbridge as Regent Hufflepuff."

"Objection!" called out Dowager Longbottom. "Amelia Bones has a better claim by blood, and Madame Umbridge is under suspicion for being a Death Eater accessory."

"The criminal activity has not been proven-" began Lucius Malfoy.

"But a suspicion is enough to halt the claim in Wizarding courts. Thank you Lord Malfoy." Dumbledore broke in. "After the investigation we may address this issue further. Lord Crouch?"

"What claim does this 'Lord Gaunt' have to house Mordrake?"

"I am Lord Mordrake by right of blood through Elizabeth Mordrake, by way of my mother," Aurelius told him, flashing his ring. "Are you disputing my claim?"

The murmering increased at this: Aurelius had proved himself to be at least a little knowledgeable about Wizarding politics, which was not something expected from the illiterate and inbred Gaunt family.

"Lord Prewett?" Dumbledore went on after the talking abated. Bill Weasley, who had been leaning back in his hard chair and holding his illuminated wand aloft, straightened hastily.

"I would like to propose the reevaluation of the anti-werewolf legislation in Britain," he said. "With the invention of Wolfbane potion, some of the more drastic laws may not apply as much. Britain is, in fact, the only country in the ICU to have a still-extant wolfshead law."

"The proposition is recognized," said Dumbledore. "Are there any seconds?"

"Seconded," said Aurelius hastily, raising his already-glowing wand still higher. He himself was waiting to propose Sirius's trial.

"Seconded," echoed the "Light" block- Fleamont Pronghorn, Dowager Longbottom, and Albus Dumbledore, among others.

"The motion is passed." Dumbledore turned, looking at the remaining wands raised. "Lord Gaunt?"

Aurelius stood, violet eyes glinting. "I propose a trial for Sirius Black, scion of Ancient and Noble house Black."

There was an instant babble of objections: "He's a Death Eater!" "A trial for a traitor?" "Didn't he already have one?" "Who is this kid, anyway?" At last Dumbledore silenced the council.

"That is a strong proposition, especially considering that Black is a war criminal. Can you back it?"

Aurelius's smile was feral in the torchlight. "First, I wish to remind the council that Black had no trial at all, nor was his wand checked or any other ministry protocol assumed. Secondly, I have evidence that suggests that not only was he _not _the Potters' secret keeper, but also that he was further framed for the explosion."

Dumbledore looked momentarily constipated before his grandfather persona reamerged. There was no way he could legally shut down the proposition without raising eyebrows, and _that _he couldn't afford. "Surely the aurors were not so hopelessly lax..."

"I would like to think that the files were only lost, but even that would be negligence," Aurelius replied. "My proposition stands. Even if he was guilty as Hell, a few drops of veritaserum would give us closure."

There was a long silence. At last, Augusta Longbottom raised her wand and slowly lit the top. "Seconded."

Aurelius was over the moon, although he did not show it outwardly. The rest of the session, despite dealing with taxes, creature legislation, the hunt for Harry Potter, former Death Eater incarceration, and the arrest of the Dursleys (the wizards having discovered that they had abused their savior) was positively flat in comparison. And despite the unpleasantly searching look Dumbledore was giving him.


	20. Chapter 19

Let's Do It Right This Time, Chapter 19:

It started out as an ordinary day. Harry had indulged in a lie-in the morning after the Wizengamot meeting, and aside from a surprisingly mild remark about "lazy firsties" from a rather tired looking Gabriel Nott, he made it all the way to the Great Hall without any mishaps.

The Great Hall was another story, considering that Ron and Draco Malfoy, with the tentative input of Neville and Draco's hangers-on, were indulging in a nice, friendly Gryffindor-Slytherin spat, and Snape didn't seem to be around to stop it. Aurelius's sighed nearly inaudibly as he approached. Once again, it seemed to be up to him to stop it.

"One wonders how your parents tolerated you, everyone knows you're nothing but a squib, Longbottom-"

"I'm not!" Neville said almost desperately, trying to be brave.

"Then prove it. You. Me. Wizard's Duel. Midnight in the trophy room."

_Oh, great. _Aurelius tried to hold in a disgusted sigh. So much for reading up on parcelwards that evening; he'd probably have to be dragging Gryffindors back to the common room in the middle of the night. Not that he had that kind of authority; he'd probably actually be given detention for being out after curfew. No. He had to stop it before it began.

"You should do it! Prove yourself! I'll be your second." _Honestly? How could Ron not see the implications of that statement- he played chess._

"B-but I don't know a lot of spells-"

"Then throw your wand away and punch him in the nose."

Neither Gryffindor, or the Slytherin for a matter of fact, saw Aurelius Gaunt stalking up behind Draco to stage an intervention. That is until he spoke. "Well, well, well, heir Malfoy."

Draco whirled. "Gaunt! What the Hell are you doing?"

"I am within my rights to wander the Great Hall like every other student," he paused. "I might, however, ask what _you _are doing, picking petty fights does not honor our noble house."

"And what gives you the right to interfere with my personal business?" asked Draco, doing his best not to be intimidated.

"The fact that any altercation involving a Slytherin in Hogwarts for the last two hundred years has always been construed to be our fault. I do not want to be in the negatives before we've even gotten to Samhain. Besides, some people do not find Gryffindor baiting polite."

At this point, the whole of the Gryffindor table was watching in some fascination. Since when did a Slytherin _defend _them?

"You don't want me as an enemy," Draco began to bluster.

"You're right. I don't. Because I'd rather not see your smug face at all. Come. We're causing a disturbance."

"You mean _you_ are-"

"Oh, don't start that, Malfoy, you're the one who thought it was funny to challenge someone to a duel before breakfast. Oh, and for future reference," he added to the Gryffindors, "Malfoy's too much of a coward to actually show up to a duel anyway- no doubt he was just trying to get you out after curfew."

The Gryffindors continued to stare. Neville was starting to look thoughtful, and Ron's anger seemed to have died down a little. Hermione was actually, gasp, looking up from her book. In fact, it seemed that even the teachers were enthralled, considering that no one had thus far gotten up to stop them.

"I am _not _a coward! If you think you're so smart, why don't _you _duel me! Bet nobody'll want to be your second..."

"What about 'keep all arguments in house'?"

Draco reddened. "You started it!" he pointed out.

"And I'll finish it, too. It's time someone took you to task, seeing as dear, dear Lucy never bothered to teach you manners befitting a pureblood."

"How dare you talk about my father like that!" Draco spat. "You miserable squib!"

Aurelius responded by wandlessly, and wordlessly, casting _langlock_, enjoying the sounds that Draco made as he discovered that his tongue had glued itself to the roof of his mouth. "I fail to see how I earned that particular appellation," he said mildly, "seeing as I'm probably more powerful than all my inbred cousins combined." He blinked. "Come. Let's go to the Slytherin table. I assume that you're hungry? Then, with a glance at the other houses: "Show's over. Kindly go back to whatever you were doing."

Draco gave him a basilisk level stare as Aurelius released the silencing charm. "Gaunt, you will pay..."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you'll tell Daddy Dearest and he'll have my magic bound or something," said Aurelius, deliberately turning his back on his housemate.

And at that moment, Draco struck. "_Osso Frangere!"_

It was a rather nasty spell, considered Dark with a capital "D", and the few who knew it gasped in shock. Aurelius jumped back with a hiss, feeling the wind of it's passing. And stared in horror as the spell struck Seamus Finnegan square in the chest.

Aurelius had never been really close to Finnegan, despite sharing a dorm with him for six years, but he wouldn't wish that nasty hex on anyone. Quick as lightening, he lunged to catch Seamus as he fell, wand jerking in quick, jagged movements to dispell the skeleton-fracturing curse before it could take hold, parcelmagic rippling from his lips in sibilant spurts; he had learned the counter from a very old book on parcelmagic healing, which had mysteriously reappeared in the library after Dumbledore's untimely demise. The Gryffindors looked as though they were beyond shock by this point, and Mcgonagall's mouth was gaping rather unflatteringly.

At last, Aurelius looked up, panting and drenched with sweat. "Draco," he rasped, once again surprising everyone by his use of the blonde's first name, "You complete and total bloody idiot! Did you even know what that spell does? Or that it can only be countered by a parcelmouth, of which there are five known world-wide, two of which are insane and the other two in _bloody India_?! YOU COULD HAVE KILLED HIM! DO YOU WANT TO GO TO AZKABAN?!"

Utter silence fell. Draco's mouth opened and shut rhythmically like a mud-puppy. And then Dumbledore's voice rang out over the Great Hall.

"Mr. Malfoy. Mr. Gaunt. I'm afraid that I must see you in my office."


	21. Chapter 20

Let's Do It Right This Time, Chapter 20: Draco Malfoy

"Yes headmaster," Gaunt said obediently, after making sure Seamus was out of danger, although he felt more like screaming. "Professor Snape?"

Said professor looked up. "I take it you wish me to accompany you?"

Aurelius nodded, preparing to follow Dumbledore.

The old man, however, suddenly looked uncertain. "Mr. Gaunt, is that really necessary?"

"I am within my rights to ask my head of house to sit in on the meeting," Aurelius told him tiredly, shaking a little now that the adrenaline had begun to wear off. "And since he's Malfoy's house head too, it might make discussion easier." Translation: I don't trust you enough to be alone with you.

Dumbledore did not look exactly pleased with that, but he plastered on his 'kindly grandfather' look and nodded to Snape, who followed them, while Mcgonagall silenced the roar of talk in the Great Hall and told everyone to go to class, barring a shaken Seamus.

Meanwhile, the three Slytherins followed the Headmaster to his office in silence. Snape looked impassive as usual, and Draco was white as cracked ice, while Aurelius seemed as if he just wanted to go back to bed; he could occlude the frustration, but the tiredness was not so easy to banish. Slowly, they walked up the winding staircase to the top, where a quick "Luminous Lollypops" made the gargoyle slide aside. Then the headmaster led them into the office.

"Boys, sit down. Lemon drop?"

Snape looked as if he had already eaten one. "Is that really necessary, Headmaster?"

The kindly grandfather facade died a little more. "Very well, Severus," Dumbledore said, tenting his fingers and fixing them with a stern gaze over his half-moon glasses. "Mr. Gaunt," he began.

"Yes sir?"

"You did a great and honorable thing today, if with the help of black magic."

"Thank you, sir," Aurelius said, though his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Dumbledore didn't just hand out complements and praise like those infernal lemon drops. What was the catch?

"You will, however, understand that I cannot let you get away with using parcelmagic."

Aurelius closed his eyes briefly and occluded so that Dumbledore couldn't see the anger on his face. "Why ever not, Headmaster?" he asked, giving a token protest, although he knew there was literally nothing he could say that would change Dumbledore's mind.

"Just because your peers use black magic does not make it right for you to do so also. I'm afraid I will have to take a hundred points from Slytherin."

Draco stared at Dumbledore as if he had never seen him before, incredulous even through his fear. Aurelius pinched the bridge of his nose. "I beg your pardon, Headmaster, I don't think I heard you correctly. Did you say you would have to take points? For black magic?"

Dumbledore sighed as if it pained him to make Aurelius's life more difficult. "Yes, Mr. Gaunt. We mustn't let the other students think that it is alright to use dark magic under any conditions. Do not take it personally."

"Now I know why Riddle went dark," Aurelius muttered under his breath. Dumbledore's eyes widened.

"Excuse me?"

"First of all, parcelmagic isn't black, even if you go by the old definition, rather than the modern one. Secondly, wouldn't the other students be a little more focused on the fact that I saved Finnegan's life? Thirdly, I do, as a matter of fact, take it personally, considering that if a Gryff or a 'Claw pulled the same stunt I just did, the house cup would already be in the bag for them. Not that I'm asking for the house cup or anything. I'd just like to maintain the status quo."

"Twenty points from Slytherin for disrespect," Dumbledore told him disapprovingly, the twinkle in his eye noticeably absent.

"Case in point," Harry said, quietly enough that the headmaster couldn't reprimand him for it, although Aurelius was sure he heard.

"Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said, changing subjects. "I must say that I am very disappointed in you. I may have to expel you."

Draco, if possible, went even more pale. "Please, headmaster, you can't do that! I didn't even know what that spell was!"

"Which ought to be a lesson to you," Snape inserted, speaking for the first time. "You never, _never _cast an unknown spell."

Unnoticed by the headmaster, Aurelius winced, eyes darkening as he remembered the _sectumsembra_. Snape, who was watching him, frowned ever so faintly, seeing his cringe.

"Indeed. _Osso Frangere _is not only black, it is illegal. If you were not a minor, you would be going to Azkaban."

Draco looked sick, and Aurelius couldn't help wondering if this would be the impetus to push him over to the Light side this time around; he knew perfectly well that for all his talk, Draco had no stomach for being a Death Eater, and this event only confirmed his opinion.

"As it is," Dumbledore went on, "I will be calling your father to the school. The Board of Governers will have to decide if you may return next year."

"I didn't mean it," whispered Draco again.

"But regardless of the intent, you did it and that cannot be ignored."

Aurelius had to agree with that, although he knew that Dumbledore was likely saying this more to scare Draco so that he could better manipulate him and make him all the more grateful for being allowed back at Hogwarts, rather than out of any simple motives of discipline.

"I'm sorry," Draco said. It was clear that it was only his Malfoy breeding and training that was keeping him from bursting into tears. He was, after all, still only a firstie.

"Very well. I will call your father tomorrow. As for today, you are excused from classes; you will have detention until the end of the year. Oh, and two hundred points from Slytherin."

Aurelius couldn't help it; he barked a laugh.

"Anything amusing, Mr. Gaunt?" Dumbledore looked as if he were loosing patience.

"Nothing, Headmaster," Aurelius told him, hurriedly occluding his amusement. He was thinking of how he had acted when he had learned Sirius Black had nearly killed Snape and had gotten off with only a slap on the wrist and twenty-five points from Gryffindor (which were replaced when Dumbledore gave James two hundred points for saving a yearmate's life), while Snape had lost a hundred points for being out after curfew. Simply put, Dumbledore had never been fair.

"Very well then. That will be all."

The three of them left, Snape to the class that he had already half-missed, and Draco distractedly walked to the lavatory, head down so as not to meet the eyes of the various curious or shocked students. Aurelius, slightly concerned, followed.

Draco barely made it through the door before he was sick, tears already sliding helplessly down his cheeks as he wretched. Without any conscious thought, Aurelius approached, his cursed Gryffindor pity sweeping over him as he watched the proud Slytherin prince break down. Silently, he slipped an arm around the boy's shaking shoulders; Draco started, but then simply slumped against him, too distraught even to break away, while Aurelius murmered the things that he had often wished someone would say to him, hoping it would help- it was not as if he had any experience with emotions himself. It might have been an hour or only a few minutes before Draco seemed to regain control of himself, jerking away from Aurelius's touch and swiping a sleeve over his face, as if that would help.

"Gaunt," he spat, realizing who his comforter was for the first time. "Come to gloat?"

"No," Aurelius told him frankly. "You were a damn fool and I will probably be angry with you if you do it again, but Finnegan's fine and I don't think your father would let you be expelled, so there's not too much harm done."

Draco's mouth opened and shut several times. "I-"

"Save it, Malfoy, go and get some sleep. You're overwrought," was all Aurelius said. And without another word, he left to his next class.

Neither of them noticed that they had not been alone for the last few minutes of that exchange.


	22. Chapter 21

Let's Do It Right This Time, Chapter 21: Parselwards

After leaving Draco behind, Aurelius stalked through the halls of Hogwarts in an uncertain temper, still fuming after his meeting with the headmaster. Condescending patronizing miserable old goat! He didn't even have the decency to admit he was wrong!

And not only that, either- the other students were driving him insane!

The Gryffindors were acting almost like they had in the last time, when he had been the Chosen One; it seemed as if their entire worldview had been altered by the sudden realization that yes, Slytherins could be noble, while meanwhile the Slytherins were tiptoeing around him, knowing that what he had done in the Great Hall was only the tip of the iceburg. The Hufflepuffs were going starry eyed and stopping him in the halls to tell him how noble he was, and the Ravenclaws wanted to know exactly what he had done and how. And Aurelius just wanted some peace and quiet, seeing as he was still trying to figure out how to break into the ward-room so he could complete the task the Sorting Hat had given him; namely, he needed to reinstate the parselwards of Hogwarts.

He had been doing some research in the library, as well as in his own private books, and the method and application of the wards was not actually that hard, especially when one considered how difficult the subject of warding was in general. He had full confidence that he could cast the wards correctly...but he still had to break into the ward-room, preferably without Dumbledore's knowledge and interference. It would help if he knew where the ward-room even _was_...

And then something occurred to him. He had been thinking about the Battle of Hogwarts- it was rather hard _not _to when he was in the location at which it had taken place night and day- and he'd suddenly remembered his conversation with The Grey Lady. Of course! The ghosts would know where the ward-room just as the staff would...and they would be more likely to keep his secrets, especially if he was going to approach the Bloody Baron, as was his plan. They were under no obligation to answer to any one headmaster- only the castle- and since he was going to be putting up wards to protect the students, and since the Bloody Baron didn't seem to talk to anyone who was not a Slytherin, he would likely be able to get the information he needed.

And so, with that thought in mind, he approached the faintly shimmering figure in a stretch of corridor where there were no paintings to eavesdrop on what he was about to say.

"Baron? May I speak to you?"

A nod. The Baron did not appear to be talkative today.

"I was wondering..." Aurelius paused to cast several auror-level silencing charms. "Where is the ward-room?"

"Why do you wish to know, young serpent?" asked the Baron in his gravelly, rarely-used voice, sounding intrigued and vaguely amused. Aurelius thought that this might be the most stimulation he had had for a few centuries or so, considering how few living people ever approached him. "Are you attempting to undermine the headmaster?"

"Well, you could say that. If you could even call that twinkling bastard headmaster. More like puppet-master."

If a ghost could start, Aurelius had no doubt that the Baron would have. Evidently that was not the answer that he had been expecting.

"That and I want to put the anti-rape parselwards back up."

"And nothing else?"

"Nothing harmful. I might need to lay a few more protection wards, depending on how many Headmaster Nigellus took down."

The ghost stared at him, empty black eyes looking through him as if to judge his sincerity. Finally he nodded. "This has never been done in the history of Hogwarts, but I sense this is necessary for the coming war, and the headmaster is not doing his duty. I will take you there," he rasped. "But I will watch what you cast- if you cast anything harmful, I _will _stop you."

"Agreed," Aurelius responded, and the Baron began to float on down said corridor, leading him into the very heart of the castle. And then he was in the ward-room for the first time.

The very air throbbed with Ancient magic, so powerful and so heavy that Aurelius felt faint and ill with it's intensity. He could feel the distinct "flavors" of the magic- the multifaceted strands of power that had been laid by hundreds of headmasters over the years, to protect their students, the occasional shimmer of an addition placed by the staff, and the achingly powerful magic of the Founders. And that's when he realized, almost subconsciously, what was wrong. He could feel only the faintest shimmer of parselmagic.

He could tell that it had once afforded more than half of the protections on Hogwarts. He could sense the power and passion that Salazar had poured into these protections, the good, if dark, magic which had once bathed the castle in protective power.

It was a crime, desecration of the magic of the Founders, that the wards had been taken down- and not just taken down, but ripped down, leaving shreds of useless parselmagic. Harry began to flush with anger. How dare they. How dare they risk harm to their students by taking down protective wards merely because they had been cast by the wrong person, or cast in the wrong language!

Aurelius's angry magic flared, fuming as he realized that if the wards had been up, his mother would never have been taken advantage of and trapped into marriage. HE COULD HAVE HAD A REAL FAMILY, A GOOD FATHER! Aurelius was vaguely aware that he was literally glowing. But at last, cognizent of the fact that he might alert Dumbledore or the staff of what he was doing if he blew up the ward room, he drew in his magic with a visible effort and forced himself to focus, to sense the magic again, to let the awareness of the wards fill him and sink into his very pores.

Warm, bubbling, buttery magic, magic that filled the air with a gentle glow, that cleaned the laundry and the halls, the magic that gave the castle semi-sentience and kept all the trains running on time. Hufflepuff.

Powerful, rich, strong, _noble _magic, magic that made the walls impenetrable to attack and kept the classrooms reasonably safe, safer than they should be in a school full of volatile students, magic which warded off any outward attack, that protected students from their own stupid rashness. Bold, confrontational, proud magic, lying heavily over the castle, protecting it from dark creatures and even darker magics. Gryffindor.

Austere, cool, analytical magic, thrumming like harp strings after a song, the magic which addressed the Hogwarts letters and did the paperwork. Spells which cataloged all the magic cast in the halls, which logged the library books out or in or missing, which made sure that the archives were protected and that the exams were free of cheating. Ravenclaw.

Shreds, the merest shreds of passionate, powerful, compassionate, protective wards, wards meant to protect students from their families, from their teachers, from each other. Wards to sense the intent of a teacher, and send that information to the headmaster- even to cast him out on his arse if necessary. Wards to prevent rape, to prevent dueling in empty classrooms after hours, to prevent poisons from being used and to prevent attackers in disguise from entering the castle. Wards to prevent abuse, to prevent suicide. Slytherin.

There were many other wards here too, but all of them built off of the first layer...and thus the parselwards had no foundation, and hung uselessly in the air, mere decomposing strips of magic.

And so Aurelius straightened, pulled out his book on warding and set it on the wardstone to read it, and began to cast...and cast...and cast. He repaired all the wards that Salazar had cast and more, and he set the newer wards back on their foundation, and he cast new ones, relishing the rich feel of the magic as it slid wandlessly through his fingers, enjoying the sibilance of the parseltongue flowing from his lips. The Baron watched in nearly-concealed shock as he let himself go, forgetting himself, forgetting his perceived age, losing himself in the magic.

The old ghost knew then that this was no student, but he knew that this...wizard...was also not a threat, not when he was casting protective wards as though his life depended on it...and maybe it did. He seemed to be, if anything, a guardian of Hogwarts, reincarnated, and the Baron resolved to watch and say nothing.

At last, Aurelius sank to his knees, head swimming. "It is done," he slurred, half in parseltongue and half in English. He staggered up again, swaying under the weight of exhaustion and heavy wards- he, of course, knew better than to give Dumbledore the reins, but that required him anchor and hold up the damn things himself until he found someone he could trust...and he was not about to tell anyone his secrets so far, at least until the end of the war.

Well, that's what he had thought...


	23. Chapter 22

Let's Do It Right This Time, Chapter 22: A Certain Serpent

Severus Snape was supposed to be at dinner. That said, he was nearly ever hungry anyway, and he needed some time alone to think.

One of his students, a first year no less, had used an advanced and dangerous magic to save another from his own housemate. That, in itself, would have been remarkable, but when one took into account that this same student had a phoenix familiar, had apparently already taken his lordship (despite the fact that even attempting to claim one's lordship before the age of sixteen was near-impossible), and seemed to have no fear of either Dumbledore or Voldemort. He also had impeccable mental shields. Severus didn't know what to think, except that he was terrified.

It was not as though the boy was arrogant or cruel, though, and that was what scared Severus more. He was invariably polite to all his teachers (although Severus had noticed a conspicuous lack of warmth in his interactions with Professors Dumbledore and Mcgonagall) and his homework was nearly always impeccable. He also seemed to go out of his way to help his classmates, especially the shy Gryffindor Neville, and he had seemed to genuinely, if awkwardly, sympathize with Draco Malfoy after he had nearly killed one of his classmates.

But he had an aura that spanned from painfully light to very dark in as little as the space of a minute, an occasional look in his eyes reminiscent of the prisoners of the Dark Lord during the first war, and a drawling, vindictive streak that sent shivers down Severus's spine. And then there was the fact that he was so blase about death and pain, as if he had grown jaded to it, while he was not only related to the Dark Lord Voldemort but also seemed to be acting like him, consciously or not, charming to the last until the killing curse hit you.

There was also something about Aurelius Gaunt which awoke memories in him that he had long tried to suppress, memories of the worst and best times of his life, of all the mistakes he had ever made. He could also not forgot the day he had glanced on accident at the boy's notes, only to see a sentence which ripped open a long-festering wound deep within him, as if calculated to cause him pain: _I bitterly regret Lily's death. _Severus was not ashamed to say that he had drank rather heavily that night.

The worst part of it was that the boy was always perfectly polite, even deferential, to his face- he even seemed to trust Severus, and yet he also seemed to deliberately go out of his way to mess with his mind until the spy felt as though he would go mad.

It was as Severus was trying to puzzle out his feelings about his student that, all at once, he felt a sudden surge of magic flowing through the halls like a dry flood. It was rich, powerful and unmistakable good, and as he tried to locate the source he felt it seeping through his pores and trickling into his core, filling with protective, gentle but powerful warmth, like a mother's embrace.

And that was when he registered that it was coming from the ward room. The room that even the staff were not allowed to visit unless the headmaster was incapable of adjusting the wards.

Severus approached, drawn to the magic like a moth to the flame.

And that's when he saw the student that had been so often occupying his thoughts. Aurelius Gaunt was slumped against the wall, long-lashed violet eyes half-shut, evidently in exhaustion, his fingers were white around the grip of his wand, as if his hand was too stiff to move. A shiver ran down Severus's spine. Could Aurelius have been the source of the magical surge that he had just felt? No, that was impossible. But why was he here then, here in a part of the school that the students shouldn't even know exist, much less be able to access?

"Mr. Gaunt," he said, forcing his voice to remain steady.

The boy's lashes fluttered, his grip on his wand tightening further, if possible. He looked ill, his face very pale and soaked with sweat, and Severus felt his usual fear slipping a little, as he remembered that, after all, the boy was still a first year, and one that appeared to be due a trip to the hospital wing.

"Mr. Gaunt," he said again, gripping the boy's shoulder loosely.

Violet eyes flew open, hazy with exhaustion. The boy stared at him incomprehending for a long moment before his clouded eyes cleared. "P'fessor Snape," he slurred, with...was that relief in his voice?

"Gaunt, what happened, are you all right?" Severus made himself say, reminding himself yet again that, powerful or not, right now Gaunt was his student, and he needed to figure out what was wrong.

"Jus...couldn't make it...to...comm'n room," the boy answered, eyes fixed glassily on his face. "Thank...'Erlin it...was...you." He tried to take a wobbling step, but collapsed almost immediately, and Severus, cursing himself for not noticing how unstable the boy was, hurriedly caught him. He was undeniably surprised when Gaunt snuggled up against his chest in a rare show of trust.

"Come on, let's get you to the hospital wing," he said quietly as he half-carried his Slytherin back down the hallway towards the more inhabited parts of the castle. To his surprise, at these words, Gaunt stiffened.

"NO!"

Severus stopped. "You're ill, you need to be treated."

"You," Gaunt slurred in reply, violet eyes wide and trusting. "Not Pomfrey. She...serves..D..." Gaunt's voice trailed off, and his head lolled back against Severus's shoulder limply. "Don't...Albus...mustn't...know..."

"Mustn't know what?" asked Severus urgently, growing worried. It was not that he trusted Dumbledore himself, but it was extremely unnerving that Gaunt was so urgent about keeping something from the headmaster.

"Conniving...bastard...sticks...nose...none...business...chess...Azkaban...framed..." Gaunt managed before losing consciousness.

Severus, making a split second decision, turned off from the path to the hospital wing and walked, instead, to his own chambers, carrying the shockingly light and shivering boy. Murmering "Lily Flower" to the bust of Salazar that protected his rooms, he pushed open the door and carried Aurelius Gaunt within, unknowingly led by a promise he had made eleven years previously.

With solicitous care, he laid the boy on his sofa, loosening his tie, and then cast a diagnostic- he was no mediwitch, but that was only because no one would officially apprentice a former Death Eater. And he waited slowly for the verdict.


	24. Chapter 23

Let's Do it Right This Time, Chapter 23

AN: The second part of this scene contains a character death flashback, and while it's not gory, it _is _intense. Please be warned before you go further...and no, (the character) will not die in this timeline.

Aurelius left the ward room dizzily, swaying as he walked, only to fall against the wall about twenty feet from the entrance, overcome with exhaustion. He rested for a few moments and then got to his feet again, made it another ten feet, and then had to slump against the wall. Damn, he'd overused his magic. He had to get away from here before Dumbledore came to see what had happened to the wards- he couldn't occlude in this state, and he knew he couldn't defend himself. But he was sooo tired. He just wanted to slump to the floor and take a nap right there. Every bone in his body felt melted, and his brain was in a similar state- it seemed that using advanced parselmagic and then repairing thousand-year-old wards in one day was a little too much for his underdeveloped core, despite his magical strength. Really, who would have thought?

Aurelius made it another few feet, fingers trailing against the rough, cool stone of the wall in an effort to stabilize himself. Would it really hurt to lean against the wall for a few moments, just until he could conserve enough energy to keep going? He went around the corner, only to see that the path branched off into identical windowless corridors. Which one had the Baron led him through? Aurelius could not remember.

That wasn't good. Aurelius stared at the fork in the passageway, eyes wide and uncomprehending with exhaustion, and then, with a stroke of genius born of pure exhaustion, simply chose one and went down it, managing another ten feet before his legs gave out at the knee and he fell bodily against the wall. He lay against it for a moment, his cheek pressed tightly against the chilly dark stone of the dungeon floor, and then at last, through sheer force of will, braced his back against the wall and got to his feet, before a wave of exhaustion forced him to lean back against the wall again. Slowly, as he was beginning to have difficulty keeping his eyes open, he made it another two trembling steps. Then he decided moving was simply too difficult, and leaned against the wall. He was just going to rest his eyes for a few moments...

"Mr. Gaunt."

Was someone talking? Aurelius tried to open his eyes, but he just couldn't make himself move. And yet he had to! What if it was Dumbledore? Or Mcgonagall? His hand tightened on his wand as he struggled to move, as if he could draw strength from the inert holly and phoenix feather. Merlin, he could barely even move his eyelids!

"Mr. Gaunt," the voice repeated, and he felt a firm hand shaking his shoulder.

He opened his eyes with a concerted effort, head swimming, and tried to focus on the black blur in front of him. Wait...black blur? That voice...oh, thank Merlin, he was safe. It was professor Snape. "P'fessor Snape," he slurred, hating the numbness of his tongue. There was so much he wanted to say, but his brain was too fogged, his voice too slow and indistinct.

"Gaunt...happened...you...all right?" Professor Snape asked, the words fading in and out to Aurelius's hazy perceptions.

"Jus...couldn't make it...to...comm'n room," Aurelius told him with difficulty, trying to focus on the man's face. "Thank...'Erlin it...was...you." He tried to take a wobbling step, but collapsed almost immediately, and Professor Snape was suddenly there, catching him, strong arms supporting his shaking body. It felt undeniably good to be held, even if it were Snape. Aurelius couldn't help but snuggle into the thick dark cloth, inhaling the scent of herbs and pickled things in jars. A wave of wistfulness came over him then, as he wondered once again what would have happened if Lily had been able to chose Snape rather than James. What would have happened? Would he have been his father? Would he even have existed? Aurelius shook himself, trying to dispel the maudlin thoughts taking advantage of his distorted perceptions and hazy mind.

"Come on, let's...you...hospital wing," Snape was saying when he managed to refocus. He stiffened, eyes going wide. He couldn't! Madame Pomfrey was complicit in all the plotting that Dumbledore had ever made, or at least so Aurelius had concluded- magical blocks must be placed by a mediwitch only, and many of the controlling and psychotropic potions that had been administered to students and teachers alike in the previous timeline needed additional spells to initiate the effects, spells which could only be known by a mediwitch. Besides, she was the only one who had intimate access to everyone at Hogwarts that would not be questioned. Would she figure out who who he was? Would she collect a blood or core sample, or block his abilities?

"NO!" he burst out, fear giving him a last adrenaline rush.

Professor Snape stopped. "You're ill, you need to be treated," he replied, puzzled.

"You," Aurelius replied desperately, hoping Professor Snape would understand and listen to him, hoping that he would Not send him to _that _woman. "Not Pomfrey. She...serves..D..." Aurelius couldn't find the strength to go on, and his voice trailed off weakly, his head falling simply back to rest on the Potions Master's broad shoulder. "Don't...Albus...mustn't...know..."

"Mustn't know what?" asked Professor Snape urgently, sounding actually worried.

"Conniving...bastard...sticks...nose...none...business...chess...Azkaban...framed..." Gaunt managed before losing consciousness.

* * *

Aurelius dreamed. It was a deeper sleep than usual, and with it came dreams, as often happened now that he was in his younger body. In the original timeline, he had become addicted to dreamless sleep in the months after Voldemort's death, when he could no longer bear to dream of burying his friends. Overuse of that potion, among other problems, makes you unable to remember any dream you might have, even after you no longer take it- it literally excises your ability to consciously dream. He had not wanted to do that in this time, but sometimes he wishes he had, and this was one of them. Because once again he dreamed of war.

At first the dreams were formless, feverish and strange, featuring the Chamber of Secrets and then melting into psychedelic colors and strange, unnatural imagery: Ginny Weasley, with a flower sprouting from her pale back like some parasitic sort of wings, a sky with two moons which illuminated a landscape made all of crystal, Nagini shedding her skin, only under it there was nothing but a metal framework...disturbing, but manageable. And then, as always, it segued into memories replayed.

When the dream had began, he'd first felt a sort of melancholy happiness, remembering the sweet little child Teddy Lupin had been, when he was alive...until he realized in horror that it was not a dream, but a memory. The one which had supplanted Sirius's death as his worst memory, actually.

He had been sitting with blue-haired, giggling Teddy Lupin on the old leather divan in the flat he'd owned in the other timeline, blowing multicolored bubbles with his wand. When the boy tired of trying to pop them, he started to tell a story, one of the stories he told Teddy whenever the boy was fussy and tired.

"Once upon a time,"

"-At a school called Hogwarts-" Teddy broke in, anticipating.

"There was a boy called Remus Lupin, and his three best friends, Sirius, Pettigrew, and James Potter."(Aurelius winced at that last, slight distaste leaking into his voice, but Teddy was too young to notice.) "Now this boy was different from all the other little boys in the school, not just because he was the smartest," (Teddy giggled) "but because he was under a dangerous curse. He was a werewolf."

Teddy ooohed, despite the fact that he had heard this story thousands and thousands of times.

"Now, in those days, having lycanthropy was not seem as a good thing at all, and Remus was afraid to tell his friends, because he thought that they wouldn't want to be friends with him. Every full moon, the nurse would take him out to the the deep, dark, Forbidden Forest, and lock him up in a cabin so that nothing could hurt him while he transformed.

"A transformed werewolf is very dangerous. The change from wizard to wolf is very painful, and it also makes the wolf really hungry, and so the wolf would always be in a bad mood, and sometimes he would want to bite people; that is why people are scared of werewolves.

"Of course, his friends would not have been concerned that he was a werewolf, but he was too afraid to tell them, because he hated the curse and he thought it would make him a monster. And so he would make excuses, and worry, and curl under the covers at night worrying about what they would do to him when they found out. What Remus didn't know was that his friends already knew.

"Now, Remus, Sirius, Pettigrew and James did everything together. They pulled pranks together, and they studied together (well, more like Remus studied and Sirius did the essay due for the very next period and Pettigrew copied the homework that James had copied off of his girlfriend Laura Greengrass while James read a quiddich magazine)" (Teddy giggled again) "But anyway, they were always together, and the only time they weren't was when James was playing for Gryffindor on the quiddich pitch or one of them was in the hospital wing. So they quickly realized that Remus was always gone at the same time.

"Sirius was the one who figured out he was a werewolf." (Well, actually it had been James, but Aurelius hated him too much to give him the credit.) "Sirius told the other two friends, and together they decided that they had to do something to help him. They all knew that he was lonely and hurting in the forest one night every month, and they didn't have Wolfsbane then, like they do now. So they went into the library and looked up lycanthropy, which was really saying something about how much they liked their friend, because none of them _ever _read if it was not required for the core classes. They read, and they read, and they didn't find anything, and they were almost going to give it up when Sirius found something that said that a werewolf couldn't hurt you if you could turn into an animal."

"They looked up the spell for how to do that, which was really hard, and then they practiced, all without telling Remus that they knew. They practiced every night for two years, starting on the Christmas of their third year, and by the beginning of their fifth, they could turn into animals. Sirius was a big, shaggy black dog, like this-" Aurelius cast his patronus, now a dog, since he'd learned the truth about his father. "He was a dog because he loved to play- he was a puppy really."

Teddy sat straight at this part; it was his favorite.

"James became a big fat deer, with giant antlers, like this:" (Aurelius demonstrated the antlers with his hands) "because he was really vain and thought he was the best thing on planet earth-" (Teddy smiled sloppily at him) "and Pettigrew was a rat, because he was a sneaky backstabber and he wasn't really friends with the rest of them." (Well, neither was James, but Aurelius had begun to tell Teddy the stories before he learned what a slimeball James was, and Teddy really liked "Prongs".)

"So the next time Remus had to be locked in the cabin on the full moon, the other three snuck out of the castle under the cloak-"

"Prongs' cloak!" Teddy burst out, proud of himself, and Aurelius tried to conceal his wince.

"And they went to the cabin the nurse had left Remus in, and they unlocked the door. Remus was inside, and he was a wolf, and he was crying wolf tears because he was lonely and it hurt. And they came and opened the door and let him out, and they all ran around all over the forest that night in the moonlight until Remus fell asleep.

"And the next morning Remus woke up with nothing on, because when he'd turned into a wolf all his clothes had fallen off, and he looked around and saw all his friends around him, also naked, and asked what happened. And Sirius said 'we couldn't make the clothes change with us'. Remus asked what they were talking about, and Sirius said-"

"We wanted to be with you on the full moon!" Teddy yelled- this was his favorite part.

"And so that was how Remus and his friends spent every full moon after that." Aurelius summoned a glass of water, somehow thirsty in the dream. Do you want to go outside now, or have ice cream?"

"Ice cream, uncle Harry! And can you tell me the one about how mum met papa?"

It was not very late, and while Aurelius normally inforced a bedtime, he was feeling indulgent that evening. So he gave Teddy the ice cream (chocolate and apricot with sprinkles and a foodsafe color-changing charm, and shaped into a wolf and a chameleon- Moony and the form Tonks had been trying to achieve when she died, not that Teddy knew that). He bathed the reluctant boy with magical soap and tucked him in, telling him more stories on the little boy's demand.

He was on the third story, and thinking that he should wrap it up on the fourth, when there was a knock at the door. It was too insistent to be Neville or Luna and too polite to be any of his old dorm-mates (besides Neville, obviously). Perhaps it was the social worker who was working with Ginny? But at this time of night?

Aurelius subconsciously knew where this was headed, but he somehow couldn't force himself to wake up.

In the dream he went to the door, carrying a sleepy Teddy, only to see Dolores Umbridge and two aurors.

"Ms. Umbridge. May I ask what you are doing here?" Aurelius asked, very frigidly.

"Just my job, Mr. Potter," was her simperimg reply. "Where's the beast?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your godson, Mr. Potter," she said as if he was incredibly slow-witted. "The werewolf. Why have you not brought him for extermination?"

"Extermination?" Aurelius asked, his voice very quiet. "First of all, he never inherited lycanthropy. Secondly, I would not hand over any child to you, ever, especially for 'extermination'. Thirdly, it's eleven pm, and I do, contrary to popular belief, need my sleep."

"Of course he inherited it, even if it's recessive. Do you take me for an idiot?"

Aurelius applauded himself for not saying "yes.""That is impossible," he said instead. "The only way you can get lycanthropy is by blood contact, which means that a child can only get it from his mother. Secondly, there is no such thing as 'recessive lycanthropy' because it is not a genetic disease."

"Regardless, he's the son of a werewolf. The law demands that every werewolf be confined in the Ministry-run Sanitary Habitations within one year of turning, or within one month of the law having been passed- there was certainly adequate time to comply. Your godson was not turned in at the appointed date. Therefore he must face the consequences, for the good of society Mr. Potter."

"And what might the...consequences be for this imagined crime?"

"Extermination, of course, these are brutal, bloodthirsty beasts, Mr. Potter."

Teddy buried his face in Aurelius's neck, and Umbridge's eye latched onto the sudden movement.

"Hand it over, Mr. Potter."

Aurelius refused.

"The law is the law, Mr. Potter- noncompliance must be punished," she said again.

And then the aurors stunned him. And he had to watch twin beams of unnatural green strike the screaming, and then whimpering child, had to watch the vibrant teal hair turn white in death. And that was _before _he realized that he recognized the second auror.

Haha, cliffie everyone! I bet you can guess who the auror is...if you can't, you should probably try to follow the storyline more diligently lol. 


	25. Chapter 24

Let's do it Right This Time, Chapter 24

Severus glanced down at the result of the diagnostic that he had just cast. No injury, no illness, just total magical exhaustion. Severus stopped and stared at it, and then at the boy. How could a child have exhausted this much energy? How could anyone? But the boy whimpered, and Severus realized that he had to start by giving him replenishing potions. There would be time enough for questions later. And there _would _be questions.

The Potions Master rose from his seat beside the boy, going to his personal storage cabinet and lifting out a box he had not touched since the end of the last war. Taking out a jar full of thin silvery teal liquid, he forced the boy to swallow it, wiping the excess that trickled down Gaunt's chin. And he waited. There was nothing else that he could do, at least until the boy regained consciousness, and the best thing at the moment would simply be to let him sleep.

So Severus summoned a Potions Quarterly and some quizzes that he had to grade, sat in his favorite armchair, and settled down to wait, making sure the floo was warded and that he had a few pepper-up potions waiting; he knew this would likely take a long time, and he also didn't want Dumbledore or some other well-meaning colleague nosing in his business, although he knew that it would be futile if the headmaster _really _wanted to talk to him, seeing as he held the wards. But he had to try, and so he sat there, hour after hour, buoyed up by pepper-ups and the last lingering effects of the two cups of coffee he always drank in the mornings, and he graded papers and watched Gaunt breathe.

Gaunt did not wake up when he had expected. Though the pure exhaustion seemed not to last any longer than the four hours that he had expected, rather than wake up Gaunt only slipped into a lighter sleep, misty violet eyes rolling beneath his eyelids.

It soon became evident that Aurelius Gaunt did not sleep well, or at least he wasn't at the moment. At times he whimpered in his sleep, twitching like a puppy dreaming of its mother, or murmered broken, mournful, incoherent words. Severus knew what it was like to suffer from nightmares, and once or twice he made an abortive attempt to sooth his student, but drew back before his slender fingers so much as touched his hair; Severus Snape did not _do_ comfort. And yet he wanted to ease the boy's suffering- any student, or man, for that matter, did not cry like that without some cause, and he felt a strange compulsion to run his fingers through the messy, mad blonde curls. He might even have done it, too, except that as he was about to, the boy gave a sharp little cry.

"Teddy! Teddy!" he wailed, thrashing in his sleep as though trying to escape hands that were clutching at him, tears streaming silently down his cheeks. A pause, and his eyes flickered open momentarily. He simply lay there for several minutes, twitching and muttering and crying in his sleep. And tthen he spoke again. And the words sent chills down Severus's spine. "You disgust me. Killing a child, James? Remus's child? Get out of my house. Now. Or do you think I am too noble to cast unforgivables?"

Severus felt numb. James? _Remus? _How- what-

Aurelius Gaunt muttered something that sounded horribly like "crucio", tears streaming down his cheeks. Severus summoned a shot glass and a bottle of firewhiskey and gulped down a shot, coughing as the liquid burned its way down his throat, then put it back- he should not be drinking on school hours.

But all he could think about were those quiet words.

"'Mione, why?" the boy gasped, struggling. "What...trusted you!"

Severus closed his eyes, trying desperately to think. He wanted to shake the boy awake and interrogate him, but he had to sleep as long as his body would let him if he was going to recover from whatever trauma had depleted his core- probably classes on top of the parselmagic he had done in the morning, now that he thought about it. He sat vigil as the boy drifted in and out of dreams, watching late into the night until at last Gaunt's lavender eyes flickered open and he stared around him, fumbling for his wand.

"Easy, Gaunt," he found himself saying.

Those strange lavender eyes fastened themselves on his face, and all of a sudden the boy relaxed, tension visibly draining from his body.

"Professor," he replied quietly, a faint smile finding its way across his face. "What happened?"

"I found you in a part of the castle you had no business being in with your magical stores totally depleted. Care to explain?" Severus said as he summoned the potions that the Slytherin would have to drink.

Gaunt winced. "It's a long story."

"We have time enough."

"Ok, so I might have asked the Bloody Baron where the wardroom was to update the parselmouth anti-rape laws that some chucklehead thought would be funny to take down- I think it was Lionel Gaunt? And I might have accidentally taken on the full ward structure."

Severus realized absently that his mouth was open, and hastily shut it. "Who the hell are you?" he hissed when he could finally speak.

"Aurelius Gaunt," was the soft reply as the boy drank the potions he had been given, throat bobbing. "I- I'm not sure how much more I should say."

Severus knew that he shouldn't try to get answers from him now. He also knew that he'd likely end up dead o if he could not figure out who this boy really was, and this was no boy. And he knew that the potions he had given the boy for magical exhaustion would have a bad interaction with veritaserum, so the only way to get truthful results was "legilimens!"

And then memories that were not his own washed over him in violent waves. Sirius Black, struck by a stunner, falling backwards through a ragged, translucent curtain and vanishing beyond it, as a boy's voice screamed "Sirius!" A little boy, obviously a metamorphmagus, being held down by two aurors as a killing curse struck him, his acid green hair turning white in death. A woman in the most appalling shade of pink he had ever seen, handing a Black Quill to a boy and forcing him to write lines. Professor Quirrell, eyes glittering coldly. "Where is it?!" A bolt of green light from _his _wand, striking Albus Dumbledore in the chest. Remus Lupin, twisting into a werewolf. A basilisk with its eyes blinded, chasing a boy who stabbed desperately at it with...was that a sword? A room filled with timeturners and jars containing little models of the life cycle, Rabastan Lestrange crashing through it and getting one of those strange enchanted jars on his head. A warped figure of a boy in Slytherin robes, screaming and fading away. A cauldron full of polyjuice bubbling away in a boarded-up bathroom. A monstrous, snake-like demon, rising from a steaming cauldron. A young woman in tears. "But y-you never loved me! It was all amor-amor-amortentia!"

Severus tried to back out, but couldn't.

A voice crying "sectumsembra!" and Draco Malfoy collapsing, bleeding. Himself, bleeding out- he almost managed to extricate himself from the flow of memories at that, but it sucked him back in as he tried to do so.

A giant snake devouring Charity Burbage. Lily's voice, screaming. Himself, sitting next to an ill-looking Dumbledore: "And my soul? What of mine?" A house elf with a knife in it's chest. A voice screaming "Kill the spare!" and Cedric Diggory collapsing, dead. Himself, older, black eyes narrowed. "Get up and try again. Or do you think the Dark Lord will give you a chance to catch your breath?" James Potter and a young man extraordinarily like him screaming at one another: "You ought to be grateful. At least you're not Snivellus's son!" "I wish I was, you son of a bitch! The man may have been a bastard but he did more for the Wizarding World in one year than you did in your entire miserable life, and died for it, too, all while you sat back on your arse eating bonbons with your new pureblood wife!"

And at this, Severus Snape, youngest potions master in history and spy for the light side collapsed in a dead faint.


	26. Chapter 25

Let's do it Right This Time, Chapter 25

AN: This chapter is dedicated to Wolf of the secret Flame for inspiring me. Also, I offer the obligatory disclaimer: I own only my own plot and word choice. Remember my poll, and don't forget to review. Please? Also, thanks to everyone who _did _review, because I'm now past the 200 review mark. Yay!

Aurelius Gaunt felt as though his head was going to crack open like an egg. Everything hurt; his muscles were aching with magical exhaustion, and he could barely breathe with the brutal legillimancy attack.

_Sirius Black, struck by a stunner, falling backwards through the veil as he screamed his name. Teddy Lupin, pressed down by a pair of aurors while Umbitch smiled smugly and cast the killing curse. Umbridge again, but this time it was his fifth year, and she was making him write with the blood quill. Quirrelmort, in the room with the Mirror of Erised, hissing "where is it!" Dumbledore toppling backwards from the Astronomy tower as Snape's killing curse struck him. _Aurelius tried to fend Snape off, but couldn't. _Remus Lupin in the Forbidden Forest, fur sprouting and face twisting into a snout as the full moon rose. The basilisk, blood still leaking from blinded eyes as it chased him though the Chamber of Secrets while he tried desperately to land a blow on it with the sword of Gryffindor. The Time Room in the Department of Mysteries, Rabastan Lestrange getting one of the enchanted jars on his head and having it shrink to infancy, mature, and shrink again in a sickening cycle, while the children ran, crashing through racks of timeturners as they went. Tom Riddle, writhing and fading as Harry rammed the basilisk's fang into the horcrux diary. The cauldron of polyjuice bubbling away in Moaning Myrtle's boarded up bathroom. Voldemort rising amid sheets of steam after the third task, while a snivelling Pettigrew lay by the base of the cauldron. Ginny Weasley, sobbing over the wreakage of their anniversary dinner."But y-you never loved me! It was all amor-amor-amortentia!"_

Now Snape was trying to withdraw from his mind. If he had done so from the beginning, Aurelius might have let him. As it was, he was exhausted, in pain, and humiliated, and he slammed down his mental walls instead, trapping Snape inside his kaleidoscope of a mind, shoving memories at him. If Snape wanted to see his memories, let him see them!

_The fight with Draco Malfoy in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, when Draco threw the crucitus and he cast sectumsembra. Snape bleeding out in the Shrieking Shack as Voldemort turned on his heel and left. _He could feel Snape trying to pull out again, harder, but after a supreme struggle he managed to pull him back into his mind and use reverse legillimancy to ram more memories into into his mind.

_The vision of Nagini devouring Charity Burbage. Lily Potter screaming "Not Harry, please not Harry!" Snape, in Dumbledore's office, holding a goblet of thick golden fluid expostulating with him "And my soul? What of mine?" Dobby with a kitchen cleaver in his chest. Voldemort's high, thin voice screaming "Kill the spare!" and Cedric Diggory collapsing, eyes blank and lifeless. The terrible occlumensy lessons in his fifth year, Snape snarling "Get up and try again. Or do you think the Dark Lord will give you a chance to catch your breath?"_

And then Aurelius, even through his exhaustion, smirked as he brought up yet another memory. Serve Snape right for messing around in his head.

_He and James Potter in his old apartment in the other timeline, screaming at each other, the shimmering invisibility cloak lying like a carcass between them. "You ought to be grateful. At least you're not Snivellus's son!"_

_ "I wish I was, you son of a bitch! The man may have been a bastard but he did more for the Wizarding World in one year than you did in your entire miserable life, and died for it, too, all while you sat back on your arse eating bonbons with your new pureblood wife!"_

And that was when Snape toppled backwards in a dead faint.

Aurelius certainly hadn't expected it of him, and at any other time he might even have laughed. As it was, Aurelius had to simply sit there for approximately half a minute, trying to fight the pain and the nausea. Then he straightened, head still swimming, and realized that Snape had literally fainted across the coffee table, and was simply lying there, blood trickling from his nose with the force of both the reverse legillimancy and possibly a concussion. Aurelius took a moment to smirk at this- serve the bastard right- and then reluctantly eased him onto the sofa and conjured a moist cloth; he was not one to let anyone suffer. He did, however, cast an adapted binding charm to keep him in place, and removed his wand, dagger, and secret potions stores.

It took fully half an hour for his ministrations to produce any effect. At last the Potions Master groaned and shuddered, trying to sit up, and immediately fell back again as the ropes wrapped around him more closely. "Gaunt...?" he rasped.

"Severus Tobias Snape," Aurelius snapped, rubbing his temples, as he still had a headache. "You are very lucky that I have some marginal respect and personal regard for you, and that I happened to be magically drained when you tried that little stunt."

Snape stared at him, eyes slightly glassy, and Aurelius figured that he was probably still in shock or concussed. "What?" he asked at last.

"An illegal legillimancy attack on a minor is the surest way to get yourself stuck in Azkaban, especially with your tacky little tattoo. Not to mention that I could just take care of you myself." He smirked; it wouldn't hurt to give the professor a bit of a scare, not after what he had just done. Especially since Aurelius was still carrying around the emotional baggage of a previous lifetime. "So would you rather take a vow or be obliviated? Or both, I could do that to..."

"Mr. Gaunt," Snape rasped.

"No, you listen to me!" Aurelius snapped. "I trusted you to at least not question me until I was healed. You betrayed that trust. There is very little stopping me from transfiguring you into something so mundane that no one will ever find you, and then replacing you with a golemn." Well, there was, but Snape didn't have to know that just yet.

Snape struggled futily with the bindings, his already pale face nearly white. "I...apologiz-"

"Don't." Aurelius told him harshly. "It's cowardly to apologize with no intention of changing anything. I want an oath on your magic before anything else happens here."

"I would need access to a wand," Snape protested hoarsely.

"Do you take me for a fool? I know you're quite talented in wandless magic, Snape, even if active magic were required in a Wizards' Oath. Repeat after me: I, Severus Tobias Snape swear upon my life and magic to keep the secrets of Aurelius Gaunt as long as Tom Riddle remains alive and Albus Dumbledore remains alive and unpunished, unless under severe duress or to those who already know said secrets and to never to intentionally work against him in matters of consequence unless under duress or in self defense."

"An if I don't?"

"Then I will obliviate you, and believe me, I can do it. Not even an occlumens like yourself could recover those memories when I am done with you. So hurry up," and Aurelius.

Snape swallowed hard and then at length echoed the oath haltingly, pausing occasionally for prompting as to the direct wording; it was clear that he felt that there was no other way. Magic pulsed as he completed his oath.

Aurelius relaxed at once, waving his hand to release the body-bind. "Right. Thank you. Now would you mind telling me where you keep your damn headache relievers?"

Snape, who had scrambled up the instant he had been released and had summoned his wand, probably in preparation for attack, was back to staring at him as though Aurelius were a puzzle that he couldn't figure out. "Now that I have sworn a vow, there had better be explanations," he demanded. "And you can start by telling me who you really are, because you're definitely _not _a first year."

Aurelius Gaunt studied him for a long moment, thinking. Snape deserved to know the truth, and he would also make a good ally, but Aurelius was still very angry at him, even more so because of the events of the other timeline, and the petty part of him wanted just to let him suffer. But at last the rapidly diminishing rational portion of his brain took control. "It's a very very long story. And I think it'd help if I showed you first." And he slowly, ever so slowly, unlatched his glamorie watch and let it fall, still ticking, into his lap.

Long blonde curls melted into messy black waves of hair. Wide violet eyes turned emerald green. Elegant features turned more rounded and babyish. Snape gave a little gasp. And that was when Aurelius began his story.

"I was Gryffindor's shining star the first time around," he said. Snape mouthed "first time around?" but said nothing, and so Aurelius went on. "I didn't know anything about magic until my Hogwarts letter came, despite being a halfblood, and I took everything at face value, including Dumbledore, which got me into a great deal of trouble. And I wasn't too concerned with rules, or my own safety, because I had been abused. My first year, I took it upon myself to defend the Philosopher's Stone, and ended up killing Quirrell, although he was possessed at the time so it was sort of self defense. And did I mention the troll my friends and I clobbered in a bathroom? I can kind of see now why you were always so mad at me." He grinned wryly at that.

"My second year," he continued, "my best friend's baby sister got a hold of a dark artifact Voldie had made when he was sixteen and possessed, and she released the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. Since I'm a parcelmouth everyone thought I did it, never mind that I both A. had a muggleborn best friend and B. was trying to figure out a way to stop it. So all these children were getting petrified, we had a DADA teacher whose idea of a class was releasing a whole lot of Cornish pixies for us to catch and then hiding under a desk, and some mysterious monster was slithering through the pipes. Oh, and we were brewing polyjuice, by _ourselves _in a boarded-up bathroom on our off hours because we were hoping to try to infiltrate the Slytherin common room in out spare time." He barked a laugh. Snape seemed transfixed.

"So then the possessed girl was brought into the Chamber itself, and I and her brother went like the idiot Gryffindors we were to save her. We'd learned a little something from last time, so this time we got a teacher, too. The only problem was that it was our idiotic defense teacher and we had only one working wand between us. Honestly, the only smart decision we made was to shove Lockhart down the passage first. So we went into the Chamber. Lockhart tried to obliviate us and run to absolve himself of any responsibility but the problem was that he used my friend's broken wand, which blew up, destroying his mind and half the tunnel and separating my friend and I. So I went down there alone, without even a way to contact anyone if I were to die and wondering what could be down there, because sweet Merlin, it's Slytherin's monster and it petrified people...I dunno, maybe it's a bloody chihuahua? I was really stupid back then."

Snape gave a little choking laugh.

"So I went all the way into the Chamber and saw the girl just lying there, and so I stupidly dropped my wand and ran to check on her. Voldie, who'd by this time attained a corporal form, have me a stereotypical supervillain monologue and then sicced the basilisk on me. So I was running around without my wand or the hope of backup, dodging between columns while this damn thing with venom, fangs, and a bad attitude was coming at me, and I probably would have died if Dumbledore's phoenix hadn't _mysteriously _showed up, along with the Sorting Hat. So while Fawkes pecked out the basilisk's eyes, I somehow managed to pull Gryffindor's Sword out of the hat. So then I took on a sixty-foot death snake with a sword and killed it, getting bitten in the process. So then Fawkes saves me, I used a fang wrenched out of the basilisk's mouth to destroy the dark artifact and then we all live happily ever after. Well, except for Lockhart who had no memories whatsoever. But he kind of brought that one on himself. And don't forget the Malfoys' eccentric house elf, the giant nest of acromantula, and the flying sentient Ford Anglia."

"Flying sentient Ford Anglia?" Snape managed.

"Oh, yeah, Ron Weasley's dad had a Ford Anglia he'd experimented on. It sort of looked like Chitty Chitty Bang Bang."

A dark eyebrow went up.

"A car from a muggle movie," Aurelius explained and went on.

"Third year was pretty tame in comparison. All we had to contend with was dementors stationed at Hogwarts, the werewolf DADA teacher who forgot his Wolfsbane just when we needed his help and my escaped murderer of a godfather. And, of course, the animagus Death Muncher masquerading as my friend's pet rat. And my friend (well, actually she was being paid to be friends with me by Dumbledore- with my money- but who's counting) had a time turner which she used to get to classes on time and study and also help free recaptured convicts and condemned hippogriffs."

Snape's mouth had began gaping rather unattractively somewhere in the middle of this narrative, but Aurelius hadn't noticed it until now.

"My fourth year," Aurelius went on, "some of the more zealous and drunk Death Munchers started a riot at the world cup which caused a number of problems. Later that year, the Triwizard Tournament was revived and I was entered as an illegal fourth champion. The DADA teacher for that year turned out to be Barty Crouch Jr. polyjuiced as Mad-Eye Moody and he not only confounded the Goblet of Fire to make me a champion but also managed to slip me a portkey straight to Voldie. I was then forcibly used in a resurrection ritual to reimbody him. Then he summoned all his Death Munchers for the usual monologue and testing of new torture curses. Luckily my wand was a brother wand to his, and when we fought it initiated _prior incantem _and I got away.

"The summer of fifth year this bitch from the ministry sent dementors after me in my home in a muggle town and then dragged me up on charges of improper use of magic when I tried to defend myself and my muggle cousin. They didn't expel me, but they tried. It almost would have been better if they _had _expelled me, though, because said ministry flunkie was also our DADA teacher that year, and since the ministry and the _Daily Prophet_ were touting the conspiracy theory that Voldie was not back at all, instead I was insane and Dumbledore was trying to take over the ministry in some roundabout way or was possibly senile or both, she not only targeted me and made me do lines with a blood quill in detention but also refused to teach anything except theory, even to the OWL and NEWT year students. And I kept having visions Dumbledore refused to explain. Oh, yeah, and you were supposed to be teaching me occlumensy."

Snape's head jerked up at that.

"I wasn't a good student and you weren't explaining even so much as what occlumensy was so I just kept getting visions and finally Voldie figured out a way to send me a fake one about my godfather being tortured. So I rushed off to the ministry with several friends on thestrals only two of us could see and we broke into the Department of Mysteries. I would say like Gryffindors, but one of us was a Ravenclaw. We smashed a bunch of timeturners, utterly destroyed the Space Room, and wiped the floor with a couple of Death Eaters before reinforcements came for both sides and we realized it was a fake vision and that Voldie just wanted me to collect something for him from the Prophecy Room. My godfather fell through the Veil of Death, the ministry finally acknowledged that Voldie was actually back and Dumbledore said 'Oh by the way, you're the Chosen One and you have to kill Voldie or die.' I was so mad...if he'd only told me that...I don't know, first year?!"

Snape was wide-eyed, evidently putting the pieces together.

"Sixth year Dumbledore got cursed by a dark artifact and blackmailed you into killing him to improve your status as a spy, which caused an enormous mess in the ranks of the Light. That was also the year when Dumbledore finally mentioned that Voldie had made multiple ! horcruxes."

"There was no seventh year for me; the ministry was taken down and filled with Death Munchers and people like that bitch Umbridge, muggleborns were being stuck in concentration camps for the crime of "stealing magic" and the Carrows were teachers at Hogwarts, with you as headmaster and Bellatrix as deputy."

Snape choked.

"So two of my friends and I spent the year camping around the country, destroying horcruxes, breaking into Gringotts and escaping on dragonback and running from Death Munchers and Snatchers. Finally we went back to Hogwarts for the final battle, you gave me some memories and I learned Dumbledore had been raising me to die at the right moment, because _I _was one of Riddle's horcruxes. I died, I came back, Neville Longbottom killed Riddle's big-ass snake and I had the usual pissing contest with Voldemort before he tried to kill me with my wand and it sent the curse back at him. So _he _died. Finally. And it should have been over, but two years later I lost everything, again, learned that James Bloody Potter was not only alive he was a little piece of thestral excrement who'd used a love potion on mum, learned that Dumbledore had been using me all along while he had both hands in my vaults, and used a less than legal ritual to go back in time. It didn't quite work as expected though..." he trailed off.

Aurelius had never before seen Snape actually at a loss for words before. At last, voice unusually wavery, he managed: "you expect me to believe all that?"

Aurelius drew his wand. "I, Aurelius Sirius Severus Gaunt swear upon my life and magic that all which I have just disclosed is the truth, that I was born Harry James Potter, and" (on an impulse) "that I do not mean you any harm. Lumos. Nox."

Snape slumped back against the couch. For a long time he was completely silent. Then, at last, he summoned a bottle of firewhiskey with a swipe of his hand. "What are you going to do now?" he asked shakily, pouring himself a glass. He paused, then snorted and passed another to Aurelius with a muttered "you're not exactly a student" and then went back to staring at his own glass. "And what do you want me to do?"


	27. Chapter 27

Let's do it Right This Time, Chapter 26

Aurelius took a thoughtful sip of the firewhiskey offered to him, making sure to go slowly. He was no stranger to the alcohol, but this body had not had it before, as it wasn't exactly legal to sell it so a child, even the Chosen One. Harry probably could have just used a disguise, but it simply hadn't occurred to him what with all the other things that he had had to deal with. "Well, first of all, we have to get Vol- the Dark Lord's- horcruxes and destroy them. That's going to be a lot harder than it sounds, actually, because Lucius Malfoy has the diary horcrux right now, the locker is in the Black family home, the ring is hidden by a bunch of wards, and the snake hasn't been created yet. Then we have to draw Tom out into a reimbodied form so he can be killed, and after that there's Dumbledore, Madame Pomfrey and James Potter to take care of."

"James Potter?" Professor Snape rasped, shaken. Granted he probably _had _been in shock the first time Harry had told him about it.

"Yes, the son of a birch has to go, preferably to Azkaban," Aurelius said viciously. "And speaking of Azkaban, Sirius Black and Morfin Gaunt need to be gotten out of there."

"I agree about James," Professor Snape said after a moment. "And I...am willing to go along with freeing Black. But who in Merlin's name is Morfin Gaunt?"

"An old pureblood wizard- Tom Riddle's uncle- who was framed for the murder of Tom Riddle Sr. and his family and shipped off to Azkaban. He was never quite sane to begin with, so he's probably quite mad by now, but no one deserves to be locked away in Azkaban for life for something he didn't even do."

Professor Snape nodded. "And...what are your other priorities?" He looked as if he was calming down, ever so slightly.

"Well, Dolores Umbridge has got to go, no matter what. She's a sadistic bitch who's only not a Death Eater because she prefers not to have tattoos or be _crucioed _at every turn. Also, I'd like to reform some of the creature laws, and there is a basilisk to be slaughtered or possibly befriended under the school. And then I think I'll have fun, because I haven't gotten a chance to do much of that in _either _lifetime. As for what you can do to help, I may need you to help me with horcrux retrieval, and I will probably also need your healing abilities."

"Dare I ask what your plan for Headmaster Dumbledore is?"

"I want him to go down hard," was Aurelius's response. "Maybe I'll pay Rita Skitter to defame him again, or owl Grindelwald. Or maybe I'll charm those horrible lemon drops of his to taste like dog excrement..."

Professor Snape gave a muted, painful chuckle at that. "I s-see. Are you sure that you are not judging Albus by the decisions that he made in your timeline? Surely he is not...surely he can still be reasoned with."

Aurelius realized belatedly that he was still reeling from learning that Dumbledore was not as Light as he seemed; after all, the man had looked on the headmaster as something of a protector and a father figure. "I'm sorry Professor," he responded. "I wish he could be. But he's already going Dark. I want to give him the option to reform, but I can't really afford that, not with the war going on. I can't risk him getting in my way because I'm interfering with his 'plans' and I would really like to reclaim my vaults before he takes the whole of the Potter fortune. I mean, it wouldn't actually matter much, except that he's going to use that money to fund his order and further his politics, and that could be majorly problematic. Plus, I have two lifetimes worth of abuse to make him pay for, and that doesn't even include all the things he did to other students, in this timeline and the last."

"To other students?" Professor Snape rasped.

"Yes. He had a major role in Riddle going dark, and he also doesn't seem to know what to do about domestic abuse and about safety at the school. Students shouldn't have to worry about trolls- speaking of, Quirrell is going to try to let one into Hogwarts this year, so be on your guard- and about cerberuses and werewolves and Merlin knows what else, besides, and bullies should be disciplined no matter what house they come from. And if students are being abused, he should be intervening, not just sending them back." He winced. "Or putting them there to be abused in the first place; I'm still mad about that."

"You...were abused?" It appeared that Snape's entire world was falling to pieces around him, and Aurelius had to remind himself that in twenty-four hours the man had discovered that one of his little Slytherins was not only not who he said he was but was also a time-traveler and a parselmouth, and incidentally also the son of his ex-best friend and his schoolyard antagonist. Aurelius should probably have taken it a little slower, but then, he hadn't planned any of this in the first place when he had gone down to the wardroom to reintegrate the parselwards.

"Yes," was his quiet response. "I'd always hoped that Dumbledore didn't know, but even if he had, he shouldn't have put a baby on a doorstep in the middle of the night like a bottle of milk, and then never checked up to see if it was ok. And I'm actually inclined to think that he did know, considering the fact that he had two trackers, five magical blocks and a mail ward on me."

Professor Snape took a long drink of his firewhiskey to compose himself. His voice shook ever so slightly as he went on. "What else? What else...has he done."

Aurelius hesitated. "He obliviated Minerva Mcgonagall multiple times," he said at last. "And, um, he does a lot of illegal spells on students. Normally not actively harmful, but things like trackers and eavesdropping spells that he has no business casting except for legitimate reasons. And..." he trailed off. Snape had probably had enough shocks for one night.

"And what? Tell me," Snape said seriously when Aurelius did not go on.

"You need to get a full-body chronic scan at Gringotts," Aurelius told him. He didn't know all the things that Dumbledore had cast on the other man, but what he did know was definitely not good.

Snape's eyes widened, and then slitted. "_What_ did he do!"

"I don't know what all he cast," Aurelus deflected.

"You wouldn't advise me to get a scan if you didn't know something," Snape countered. "Tell me!"

"Compulsions," Aurelius said when it was clear that the man was not going to back down. "Compulsions and trackers and a few obliviates, probably, because there's no way that a Potions Master and Occlumens of your calibre wouldn't have figured out what he's doing by now."

Professor Snape slumped back in his seat with a muffled choking sound that might have, in a lesser man, been a sob. "I trusted him," he whispered finally. "I would have trusted him with my life."

"I know," was Aurelius's quiet response. "I did, and he sent me to die."

Neither of them talked much after that. At last Professor Snape rose and escorted Aurelius out and back to the Slytherin dorms, so that no one (cough, cough; Dumbledore) could accuse him of impropriety for letting a student sleep in his private rooms, and Aurelius entered the empty common room alone. No one had waited for him, not even his dorm-mates. So much for one's house being family! Actually, on second thought, Aurelus's house was _exactly _like his family, and wasn't _that_ a depressing thought.

And that's when he heard a quiet snore. Draco Malfoy, prince of Slytherin, was waiting on one of the common room couches. Well, waiting for _something_, anyway; Aurelius doubted it was for him. Slowly, he walked over, and at last stopped in front of him, allowing himself a long moment to simply observe him. Asleep, with his normally impeccable white-blond hair in a mess and features relaxed, the boy looked so much younger, so much more innocent. So much more worried, too, Aurelius deduced from the worried crease in his forehead, the insecurities he would never allow to rise to the surface in his waking life. Aurelius noticed, for the first time, that there were dark smudges beneath his eyes, and hesitated to wake him. All the same, the boy should probably go back to the dorm before the morning; it would not be good for his reputation to be found asleep and drooling, and weakness was pounced upon with alacrity in the Snake Pit. Plus, he would probably have a sore neck in the morning.

And so he laid a hand gently on the boy's shoulder. "Draco? Dray, wake up."


	28. Chapter 28

Let's Do It Right This Time, Chapter 28

The rogue author updates again! I don't own the fandom, blah blah blah. Please enjoy.

Draco's silver eyes flew open the minute Aurelius shook him. "G-Gaunt?"

Aurelius nodded. "Everything ok, Malfoy?"

"_You_ ask if everything is ok?"

Aurelius flinched back. "No need to chew my head off."

Draco stared at him for a moment, and then huffed. "Right. I didn't mean it like that, Merlin!"

Aurelius didn't have the energy to deal with this, not after all he had gone through in the last few days. Why couldn't the idiotic wizard get to the point so that _he_ could get to bed? "What did you mean, Malfoy?"

"They're going to attack you!"

"What?! Who?"

"Some of the 7th years- I think Gabrielle Nott is the ringleader. They're going to wait until you come go into the dorm and then they're going to pounce."

Aurelius sighed. "Oh. Splendid. Thanks so much for the warning, Malfoy." He paused a moment, thinking. If he had still been the Gryffindor Golden Boy, he would probably have gone to report it, but at this time of night and in this political climate, that would probably not do the slightest bit of good, and Snape, the only one who would probably have helped him, was likely in no state to deal with a bunch of bloodthirsty Slytherin upper years. "Tippy!"

His elf popped into view at once. "Master Aura, sir, what is you needing?"

"Can you please fetch my bookbag and a change of clothes without disturbing my dorm mates?" Or the students lying in wait for him, he added silently.

"Tippy be doing that, sir!"

Aurelius gave a rare smile as the elf returned with the items requested. "Thank you, Tippy."

Most elves would probably have blubbered at this, but Tippy, being used to Aurelius's excentricities, only gave him a blindingly bright smile and replied "Master Aura being a good man."

Aurelius turned towards the door, then hesitated. "Malfoy, is it safe for you to return to the dorm?"

Draco was staring at him, wide-eyed. "Um, n-no," he replied at last. "They'll know I warned you, since I stayed in the common room."

Oh, splendid, _that_ complicated the situation. He couldn't in good conscience leave Draco to the mercies of the Death Eaters in training that were waiting to hurt them, but at the same time, he didn't particularly want to show the boy to the Room of Requirements, which he had been about to go to to use as a base. The only other options, however, were to hide in some of the great empty passageways of Hogwarts, bunk in an abandoned classroom, or go and hide in the Chamber, which currently held a live basilisk and would not be worth the trouble. Aurelius was not going to wake up and talk to, (and maybe kill) a two thousand-year-old basilisk before breakfast just because he didn't want Draco to know about the Room of Requirements. Maybe he could simply not tell him everything it did? "All right." Harry shot a look back at Tippy. "Tippy, can you get Malfoy's bags and some clothes for him?"

Tippy popped out and back with a stack of textbooks and a change of clothes for the Slytherin prince. "Here yous be, Master Aura."

"Thank you. That will be all, Tippy."

"Yes Master Aura sir," Tippy said, and vanished in an instant. Aurelius at once turned back to Draco.

"What was that about, Gaunt?"

"I don't want you being hurt for staying in your own dorm, and you can't bunk in the Common room all year. I can put up wards in our dorm in a few days, but I'm kind of drained right now, so I was going to suggest staying in a safe place that I know about in Hogwarts."

"Like what, Professor Snape's quarters? No place is safe for Slytherins!"

"Well, it's called the Room of Requirements. It's clean, comfortable and safe; better than crashing in the Shrieking Shack or the Chamber of Secrets, that's for one thing."

Draco blinked at him a few times, and then seemed to decide that he could trust him; Aurelius was not sure what had changed the Slytherin's mind. "O-okay. And we're not going to get in trouble for staying out of our dorm?"

"We may or may not; Slytherins tend to get in trouble for breathing. But we have the school rules and Professor Snape on our side, and I can probably talk to the Board of Governors."

"Okay then." Draco squared his shoulders. "Where is this place?"

"Seventh floor, by the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach trolls ballet. I'll show you." And Aurelius heaved his bag up onto his shoulder, grabbed the clothes, motioned to Draco to do the same, and led the other Slytherin out of the common room and from there to the Room of Requirements.

The Room, in this particular instance, was roomy, with forest green walls and forest green carpet, like a cross between the Slytherin dorms and a very nice sitting room, complete with enchanted windows that seemed to look out on the Black Lake and a nice little lounge and bar. Aurelius studied the atmosphere the Room had conjured, and smiled. "Not bad, actually," he said, heaving his bag onto one of the chairs. He turned back to Draco, who was still standing in the doorway, staring at the room, and motioned him inside. Merlin forbid anyone should see two Slytherin first years this far from the common room in the middle of the night.

Draco came in, staring at everything with wide silver-grey eyes, looking so young that Aurelius was reminded, with a pang, that the boy was, after all, still a first year. An intelligent and studious first year, but a first year nevertheless. Aurelus barked a quiet laugh, thinking of the response he would have made if someone had told him that one day he would be mentoring Draco Malfoy, and then collapsed back onto one of the armchairs, (not the one which had their bags on it) and letting himself sink into the soft cloth cushion. He would have summoned a glass and some firewhiskey from the bar if he had not been with an underage student.

"So how do you know about this place?" Draco asked, after his surprise and awe had seemed to have died down. "Did someone tell you about it, or...?"

"House elves know a lot of things," Aurelius responded. "One day I needed a place to be safe and alone, and I asked the elves about it, so they showed me about this place." Aurelius smiled a little. "Anyway, house elves aside, I'm...really tired, so maybe we could call it a night?"

"I guess so," Draco replied; he had, after all, had a very long night as well. Aurelius conjured a Japanese folding screen between them- he was not going to change in front of a student, despite the fact that he was technically one himself at the moment- and then shrugged out of his uniform. He then summoned a book from his bag- some muggle novel that he had never before had a chance to read- and walked over to lay down on the bed that the Room had supplied for him. A few quick swishes of his wand added some silencing charms and intent wards; he didn't want to be vulnerable, even if he somewhat trusted Draco, and anyway, he didn't want to wake the exhausted Slytherin by screaming and thrashing in his dreams. He surreptitiously made sure that the Slytherin was preparing for bed, called a languid "Goodnight," and then curled up with his novel, waiting for sleep. He began to read, but the novel could not hold his attention, and he was already tired from the exertions of the day, so at last he slumped back down onto the pillows, the book falling from his nerveless hands. His last thought before he sank into oblivion was that he hoped to Merlin that the portraits were not reporting to Dumbledore at this very moment.

* * *

Aurelius awoke without knowing where he was. The bed he was in was much softer than the one in the Slytherin dorm room (or the Gryffindor one, for that matter) which felt incredible to his aching bones. Wait, aching. Why was he sore?

His memories came rushing back. The dark spell, and the parseltongue counter that he had used. Dumbledore's intimidation session. Updating the wards, with the Bloody Baron watching. Meeting Snape on the way back to the common room, when he had collapsed from magical exhaustion. The interrogation and legilimency Snape had subjected him to after giving him potions to soothe his core. His own response. Going back to the common room and seeing Draco on the couch, and learning that some of the Dark upper years were lying in wait for him. Going to the Room of Requirements and falling asleep at once. Oh, Merlin, what time was it? There would be hell to pay if either one of them was late, especially because they were Slytherins, and it would be worse still for Aurelius, what with Dumbledore's unofficial vendetta.

Aurelius drew his wand, which he had previously kept under his pillow, and cast a quick tempus. Oh, good; it was only seven in the morning. Breakfast would open at half past seven and classes wouldn't start until nine, so they had a reasonable amount of time to get freshened up and get to class, and (though Aurelius had not noticed this the previous night, what with how late it was) the Room had thankfully conjured a bathroom. Aurelius rose quickly, cast a washing and drying charm on his uniform from the previous day and, after a lightning-fast shower (Aurelius honestly didn't think himself capable of having a long shower after his experience with the Dursleys: ten minutes was generous, and Merlin help him if he wasted soap or didn't get it washed out by the time Petunia had dragged him out of the bathroom. By this reckoning, a fifteen minute shower, (with the ability to spell any soap out of his hair if he didn't manage to wash it all out) was positively lavish. Aurelius then put on the newly cleaned uniform and went to wake Draco up.

Draco had evidently charmed his drapes closed, but when Aurelius's alarm did not seem to wake the boy, the older wizard dispelled the weak warding with an easy wandless flick of his wrist and hesitatingly opened the drapes.

Draco was thrashing in his sleep, tears silvering his pale cheeks. Oh, Merlin.

"Please," the boy whispered, his usual arrogant tones softer, pleading. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry!"

Aurelius hesitated. For one thing, he didn't particularly want to shake Draco awake; it could traumatize him still more than whatever his nightmares had (although now that Aurelius thought about it, he wasn't sure how much worse he could make it) and he might possibly be hexed for his troubles, either because Draco thought he was someone else or because he was angry that Aurelius had seen him at a vulnerable time- what would garner sympathy in Gryffindor tended only to render someone and easy target in Slytherin- although Aurelius had seen Draco at lower points. But all the same, he didn't want to leave the boy to suffer, and they needed to be getting up anyway; the longer they were not in recognized and public parts of the castle, the more likely their absence was to be discovered.

And so Aurelius, yet again, shook him.

Draco exploded awake, trembling ever so slightly, staring at him with glazed and panicked silver eyes, fumbling for his wand. A hex exploded by his head, and Aurelius cast a quick wandless shield, then waited for Draco to calm down; saying something trite and kind would probably only make things worse.

"Oh," Draco gave a little halfway sob, seeing him, and something that might have been gratitude flashed momentarily across his face, (though it was quickly subsumed by a blush of shame and anger, so Aurelius couldn't quite be sure. "What? Why?"

"It's almost breakfast time," Aurelius told him calmly, without mentioning the nightmare. "We should probably be getting going soon, or someone's going to notice that we were out of our beds."

Draco nodded. "Right. I'll be there in a moment. Please leave me alone to change."

Aurelius nodded and went back to his side of the shoji screen, picking up the neglected novel. It wasn't particularly interesting, mostly car chases and gun fights with a vapid romantic subplot, but it would distract him, he supposed. He could hear the water begin to run in the bathroom, which was honestly probably more interesting than the book, and so he huffed and pulled out his History of Magic text instead. Draco appeared in another thirty minutes all the tears having been scrubbed from his face and his uniform impeccable as usual, as he had charmed the wrinkles out. Draco cast a quick charm to style his hair and then swung his bag over his shoulder, seeming to dare Aurelius to mention the condition he had found him in. Aurelius said nothing but: "Let's hurry; we don't want to be late to classes," and in a few moments, they had left the Room of Requirements and were heading down to the Great Hall behind them.

Later, Aurelius would be furious that he had not noticed the portraits watching them and disappearing from their frames.


End file.
